MAROCCO
AND
THE GREAT ATLAS
[Illustration]
[Illustration: From a Drawing by W. Prinsep, December 1829
PANORAMA OF THE GREAT ATLAS FROM THE CITY OF MAROCCO]
_JOURNAL OF_
A TOUR IN MAROCCO
AND
THE GREAT ATLAS
BY
JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER, K.C.S.I., C.B.
PRES. R. S.
DIRECTOR OF THE ROYAL GARDENS, KEW; ETC.
AND
JOHN BALL, F.R.S., M.R.I.A.
ETC.
_WITH AN APPENDIX_
_including_
_A SKETCH of the GEOLOGY of MAROCCO, by GEORGE MAW, F.L.S., F.G.S._
[Illustration: CAPE SPARTEL]
London
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1878
_All rights reserved_
_PREFACE._
The expedition of which an account is given in the following pages
was undertaken in the year 1871, and it was originally intended
that a narrative of the proceedings should be given to the public
soon after our return to England. Sir Joseph D. Hooker, who made
careful notes throughout the journey, hoped to complete the work
without much delay, and actually wrote the greater part of the
first two chapters; but the constant demands upon his time arising
from his official duties at Kew, and the important botanical
works to which he is a chief contributor, further increased by
his election, in 1873, to the Presidency of the Royal Society,
so far interfered with the completion of the original design as to
compel him to request his fellow-traveller, Mr. Ball, to undertake
the completion of the work. The latter was at the time engaged in
preparing for publication a memoir on the Flora of Marocco, which
has since appeared in the Journal of the Linnæan Society, wherein
the botanical collections made during the journey are enumerated
and described; and his performance of the task allotted to him has
been further delayed by several prolonged absences from England.
As regards many countries visited by travellers a delay of several
years in publication might seriously affect the accuracy of a
narrative intended to represent the existing condition of the
country and its inhabitants; but in the case of Marocco, where,
from a comparison with the accounts of early travellers, no notable
change is apparent during the last two centuries, the effect of a
few years’ interval may be considered insensible. Up to the date
of our visit the Great Atlas was little better known to geographers
than it was in the time of Strabo and Pliny; and it may be hoped
that whatever interest belongs to our journey is as great now as
it was at the moment of our return.
The narrative now published is mainly founded on the journals kept by
Sir J. Hooker and Mr. Ball, supplemented in some particulars by that
of our fellow-traveller, Mr. G. Maw. To the latter we owe a sketch
of the Geology of Marocco, which appears in the Appendix. Along
with this we have published some interesting contributions received
from Mr. H. B. Brady and Mr. Freeman Bogers, as well as some papers
upon various matters connected with the physical geography and the
flora of Marocco.
It is impossible to present these pages to the public without
repeating the expression of our obligations to some of those to
whose assistance we largely owe whatever success we were able to
attain. Foremost amongst these we must name H. E. Sir John Drummond
Hay, K.C.B., British Minister Plenipotentiary in Marocco. From
the moment when, in compliance with the request of Sir J. Hooker,
Lord Granville, then Foreign Secretary, instructed our Minister to
apply for the permission of the Sultan to visit the Great Atlas,
Sir J. D. Hay, by his extensive knowledge of the country and the
people, and by his great personal influence, afforded invaluable
assistance to the expedition.
We were also much indebted for assistance and hospitality to the
British Consular agents on the Marocco coast, and especially to
the late Mr. Carstensen, then Vice-Consul at Mogador. We should not
omit our acknowledgments of the courtesy and valuable information
received from the late M. Beaumier, French Consul at the same port.
We trust that in the course of the following pages we have not
omitted to express our thanks to other friends who have kindly
contributed valuable information. The scope of this volume
being mainly to give an account of our personal experience and
observations, we have used, but sparingly, other materials, which
might be in place if we had aimed at the production of a work of
a more elaborate character.
_CONTENTS._
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Voyage to Gibraltar — View of Tangier — Interior of the town —
Portuguese and English occupation — Hospitable reception by
Sir John Drummond Hay — Ravensrock — Government of Marocco —
Climate of North Marocco — Exceptional season — The Djebel
Kebir and its vegetation — Cistus and Heath region — Cape
Spartel — Night at the Lighthouse — Cave of Hercules — Arab
village — Return to Tangier 1
CHAPTER II.
Start for Tetuan — Vegetation of the low country — Serpent
charmers — Twilight in the forest — The Fondak — Stormy
night on the roof — Breakfast on the hill — Riff Mountains
— A Governor in chains — Fate of high officials in Marocco
— Valley of Tetuan — Jew quarter of the city — Ascent of
the Beni Hosmar — Vegetation of the mountain — A quiet day
— Jewish population — Ride to Ceuta — Spanish campaign in
Marocco — Fortifications of Ceuta — Return to European
civilisation — Spanish convict stations in Africa 25
CHAPTER III.
Sail to Algeciras — Vegetation of the neighbouring hills
— Comparison between the opposite sides of the Strait of
Gibraltar — Return to Tangier — Troubles of a botanist — Fez
pottery — Voyage in French steamer — Rabat and Sallee — Land
at Casa Blanca — Vegetation of the neighbourhood — Humidity of
the coast climate — Mazagan — View of Saffi 58
CHAPTER IV.
Arrival at Mogador — The Sultan’s letter — Preparations for
our journey — The town of Mogador — The neighbouring country
— Ravages of locusts — Native races of South Marocco —
Excursion to the island — Climate of Mogador — Its influence
on consumption — Dinner with the Governor 75
CHAPTER V.
Departure from Mogador — Argan forest — Hilly country of Haha
— Fertile province of Shedma — Hospitality of the Governor
— Turkish visitor — Offering of provisions — Kasbah of the
Governor — Ride to Aïn Oumast — First view of the Great Atlas
— Pseudo-Sahara — Tomb of a saint — Nzelas — Ascend the
‘Camel’s Back’ — Oasis of Sheshaoua — Coolness of the night
temperature — Rarity of ancient buildings — Halt at Aïn Beida
— Tents and luggage gone astray — Night at Misra ben Kara —
Cross the Oued Nfys — Plain of Marocco — Range of the Great
Atlas — Halt under tamarisk tree 95
CHAPTER VI.
Approach to the city of Marocco — Pleasant encounter — Halt
in an olive garden — Interior of the city — Difficulty as to
lodging — Governor unfriendly — Camp in the great square —
Negotiations with the Viceroy — Successful result — Palace of
Ben Dreis — Diplomatic difficulties — Gardens of Marocco —
Interview with El Graoui 125
CHAPTER VII.
Choice of a route in the Atlas — Difficulty of procuring
information — Hills near the city — Panorama of the Great
Atlas — Probable height of the range — Wild birds of Marocco
— Condition of the Jews — Departure from the city — Farewell
interview with El Graoui — District of Mesfioua — Interview
with the Kaïd — Approach to the Great Atlas — Aspect of the
vegetation — Castle of Tasseremout — Washington’s visit —
Jewish suppliants — Great boulder mounds — Ourika valley —
Peculiarities of Moorish character — Rapacity of our escort 149
CHAPTER VIII.
Vegetation of Ourika valley — Destruction of the native trees
— Our progress checked — Enforced return — Shelluh village
— Ride from Ourika to Reraya — Trouble with our escort — A
friendly Shelluh sheik — Native desire for medical advice —
Characteristics of the Shelluhs — Zaouia of Moulaï Ibrahim —
Camp in Aït Mesan valley — Excursion to the head of the valley
— Reach the snow — Night travelling in the Atlas 175
CHAPTER IX.
The Shelluh sheik bribed — Arrangements for stopping at Arround
— Medical practice among the Shelluhs — Arabic correspondence
— Unexpected difficulty — Strange fancies of the natives —
Threatening weather — Our house at Arround — Gloomy morning —
Saint’s tomb — Escape from our guides — Strange encounter —
Snow-storm — Tagherot pass — Descent to Arround — Continuance
of bad weather — Sacrifice of a sheep — Shelluh mountaineers
— Fauna of the Great Atlas — Return to Hasni — Deplorable
condition of our camp 207
CHAPTER X.
Departure from Hasni — Plateau of Sektana — Grand view of
the Great Atlas — Departure of Maw — Village of Gurgouri
— Intrigues of Kaïd el Hasbi — Passage of the Oued Nfys —
Arrival at Amsmiz — Friendly Governor — Difficulties as to
further progress — Position of Amsmiz — Sleeping quarters
in the Kasbah — Fanatical sheik — Shelluh market — View of
the Amsmiz valley — Village of Iminteli — Friendly Jews —
Geological structure and vegetation of the valley — Sheik’s
opposition overcome — Ascent of Djebel Tezah — The guide left
behind — View from the summit — Anti-Atlas seen at last —
Deserted dwellings on the peak — Ancient oak forest — Rapid
descent — Night ride to Iminteli 239
CHAPTER XI.
Return to Amsmiz — Arround villagers in trouble — Pains and
pleasures of a botanist — Ride across the plain — Mzouda —
Experiences of a Governor in Marocco — Hospitable chief of
Keira — A village in excitement — Arrival at Seksaoua — Fresh
difficulties as to our route — A faithful black soldier — Rock
vegetation at Seksaoua — Ascent of a neighbouring mountain —
View of the Great Atlas — Absence of perpetual snow — Return
of our envoy from Mtouga — Pass leading to Tarudant — Native
names for the mountains — Milhaïn — Botanising in the rocks 271
CHAPTER XII.
Departure from Milhaïn — Defile of Aïn Tarsil — Dwellings
of the troglodytes — Arrival at Mtouga — Gloomy evening —
Governor’s return from the fight — Prisoners of war — Their
fate — Ride to Mskala — A venerable Moor — Return to the
Kasbah of Shedma — Poisoned guests — Ride to Aïn el-Hadjar —
The Iron mountain — Ancient mining work — Eccentric soldier —
Ascent of Djebel Hadid — Ruins of Akermout — Ride to Mogador
— A Kasbah in ruins — Powder-play on the beach — Return to
Mogador 299
CHAPTER XIII.
Second stay at Mogador — Plants obtained through native
collectors — Outrage committed by the Haha people — Story of
the troubles in Haha — Farewell presents to our servants and
escort — An unpunctual tradesman corrected — Exports from
Mogador — Caravans from Timbuktou — Jewish wedding — Voyage in
the _Lady Havelock_ — Land at Saffi — Excursion ashore — Land
at Mazagan — Return to Tangier, and thence to England 326
CHAPTER XIV.
Resources of Marocco — Moorish government a hopeless failure
— Future prospects of Marocco — Objections to European
interference — Answers to such objections 348
_APPENDICES._
APPENDIX A.
PAGE
Observations for determining Altitudes of Stations in Marocco. 357
_By_ JOHN BALL
APPENDIX B.
Itineraries of Routes from the City of Marocco through the
Great Atlas. _By_ SALOMON BEN DAOUD 366
APPENDIX C.
Notes on the Geography of South Marocco. _By_ JOHN BALL 371
APPENDIX D.
On some Economic Plants of Marocco. _By_ JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER 386
APPENDIX E.
A Comparison between the Flora of the Canary Islands and that
of Marocco. _By_ JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER 404
APPENDIX F.
A Comparison between the Mountain Flora of Tropical Africa and
that of Marocco. _By_ JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER 421
APPENDIX G.
On the Mountain Flora of two Valleys of the Great Atlas. _By_
JOHN BALL 423
APPENDIX H.
Notes on the Geology of the Plain of Marocco and the Great
Atlas. _By_ GEORGE MAW, F.G.S., F.L.S., &c. 444
APPENDIX I.
Moorish Stories and Fables 468
APPENDIX K.
On the Shelluh Language. _By_ JOHN BALL 478
APPENDIX L.
Note on the Roman Remains known to the Moors as the Castle
of Pharaoh, near Mouley Edris el Kebir. _Communicated by
Messrs._ W. H. RICHARDSON _and_ H. B. BRADY, F.R.S. 485
INDEX 491
* * * * *
_Errata._
P. 388, line 10, after ‘Pharmacographia,’ 502, insert Cosson, in
Bull. Soc. Bot. Fr. xxi. 163.
„ 394, „ 4 from bottom, for ‘Sus’ insert _Sous_.
„ 395, lines 4 and 9 from top, for ‘Sus’ insert _Sous_.
_ILLUSTRATIONS._
PANORAMA ON THE GREAT ATLAS FROM THE CITY OF
MAROCCO _Frontispiece_
CAPE SPARTEL _Title-page_
TETUAN _To face 39
page_
SAFFI „ 73
TOWER OF THE KOUTOUBIA AT MAROCCO „ 142
GREAT ATLAS FROM LOWER VALLEY OF AÏT MESAN „ 193
WEST END OF THE MAROCCO ATLAS FROM SEKTANA „ 242
DJEBEL TEZAH FROM IMINTELI „ 257
GEOLOGICAL SECTION OF THE PLAIN OF MAROCCO AND
THE GREAT ATLAS „ 460
_WOODCUTS IN TEXT._
PAGE
ARGAN TREES 97
REED SCREEN FOR LOCUST DESTRUCTION 159
FORT AT TASSEREMOUT 166
HOUSES AT ARROUND 215
ISOLATED MASS IN GREAT ATLAS 265
CLIFF SECTION, SAFFI 451
ROTULOIDEA FIMBRIATA (_Etheridge_) 452
CALCAREOUS CRUST (Surface and Section) 455
‘CAMEL’S BACK,’ FLAT-TOPPED HILLS IN THE PLAIN OF
MAROCCO 456
BOULDER MOUNDS, SKIRTING ATLAS PLATEAU ESCARPMENT
(Section and Surface) 459, 460
ROMAN RUINS OF VOLUBILIS 487
MOULDING OF DOUBLE INTERLACED LINES 488
_MAP_
A NEW MAP OF SOUTH MAROCCO, by JOHN BALL, F.R.S.
_At the end of volume._
JOURNAL
OF A
TOUR IN MAROCCO.
CHAPTER I.
Voyage to Gibraltar — View of Tangier — Interior of the town
— Portuguese and English occupation — Hospitable reception by
Sir John Drummond Hay — Ravensrock — Government of Marocco —
Climate of North Marocco — Exceptional season — The Djebel Kebir
and its vegetation — Cistus and Heath region — Cape Spartel
— Night at the Lighthouse — Cave of Hercules — Arab village
— Return to Tangier.
On Saturday, April 1, 1871, our party, consisting of Sir Joseph (then
Dr.) Hooker, Mr. Maw, and Mr. Ball, with a young gardener, named
Crump, from the Royal Gardens at Kew, left Southampton for Gibraltar,
in the Peninsular and Oriental Company’s Steamship _Massilia_.
Even for the ordinary tourist it is a pleasant thing to turn his face
towards the South in the early part of the year, and to feel that he
is about to exchange six or eight weeks of bitter easterly winds for
the bright skies and soft breezes of the Mediterranean region. Still
more does the botanist rejoice to quit the poverty of our slowly
unfolding spring flora for the wealth of varied vegetation that is
spread around the shores of the Inland Sea. But for us, the occasion
was one of deeper and more special interest. We were starting,
under unusually favourable conditions, to explore a country which,
though close to Europe, is among the least known regions of the
earth. Although the obstacles we were sure to encounter and the
limited time at our disposal, might not allow us to accomplish
much, we felt a confident hope that we should learn something of
a great mountain chain all but absolutely unknown to geographers,
and be able to fill up some missing pages in the records of our
favourite science. The thrill of pleasurable anticipation at the
prospect of setting foot within the boundaries of _terra incognita_
was heightened by the fact that for each of us this land of Marocco
had long been the object of especial interest and curiosity.
From an early period Hooker had conceived the desire to explore the
range of the Great Atlas, to become acquainted with its vegetation,
and to ascertain whether this supplies connecting links between that
of the Mediterranean region and the peculiar flora of the Canary
Islands. This desire was increased during a journey in Syria, in
1860, made in company with Admiral Washington, the late Hydrographer
of the Navy, one of the very few Europeans who had reached the
flanks of the Great Atlas chain, when, as a young naval officer,
he accompanied the late Sir John Drummond Hay on his mission to
the city of Marocco in 1829.
Maw had already made collections of living plants in the
neighbourhood of Tangier, and had also visited Tetuan, where he had
pushed his excursions farther than any but one preceding traveller.
Ball had landed at Tetuan in 1851 with the hope of attaining some
of the higher summits of the neighbouring Riff Mountains; but the
disturbed state of the country in that year made it impossible to
advance beyond the immediate outskirts of the city.
From the moment when it seemed likely that the permission to visit
the Great Atlas sought for by Hooker, through the intervention of
our Foreign Office, would be accorded by the Sultan of Marocco,
no time was lost in making the requisite preparations. Although
everything was done within about a fortnight, our equipment
was tolerably complete; and when, after the first excitement of
departure had subsided, we thought it over on board ship, we found
but one serious omission to deplore. Two mercurial barometers,
provided by Hooker, had been entrusted to Crump, and were by him
left behind at the last moment. Thus, in the important matter of
determining heights, we were forced to rely upon aneroid barometers
and boiling water observations. It was fortunate that Ball carried an
excellent aneroid, by Secrétan of Paris, which has before and since
been severely tested in the Alps with very satisfactory results,
and whose indications during our journey agreed closely with those
given by the thermometer in boiling water.
Among the various preparations made for our journey there was none
more important for our purpose than a manuscript catalogue of all
the plants hitherto known or believed to have been found in the
Empire of Marocco, which we owed to the kindness of our excellent
friend M. Cosson, the eminent French botanist. Up to that date
the information to be found in books was extremely scanty, and
scattered throughout various systematic works, and the whole when
summed up would have given a most incomplete account of the two
or three districts partially explored by botanists. M. Cosson, by
his unequalled knowledge of the North African flora, and by careful
study of all the collections made in Marocco, many of which are in
his exclusive possession, was the only person who could have supplied
the materials which were so serviceable throughout our journey.
In the agreeable society of old friends and new acquaintances, whom
we met on board the rather crowded steamer, the voyage to Gibraltar
did not appear too tedious, but we were well pleased when, on the
afternoon of the 6th, the moment came for landing.
We were not destined to see much of the famous ‘Rock’ or its
native ‘scorpions,’ whether biped or hexapod. Scarcely had our
voluminous baggage been transported to the hotel, when news reached
us that an English steamer was about to sail within two hours for
Tangier, and we at once decided that not a moment’s time should
be wasted. Back again our heavy goods, in which botanical paper was
a chief ingredient, were carried to the mole, and after paying the
innkeeper a pretty heavy ransom, on account of rooms ordered but not
used, and a hastily swallowed dinner, we once more found ourselves
afloat. So much haste was not necessary, for the steamer did not
start till some time after midnight; but the time was not badly
spent, for the steamer was one of those that ply between London and
the Canary Islands, touching at the ports on the Atlantic coast of
Marocco; and the skipper, who was an old stager, and had formed
his own opinions about the country, had plenty of information,
of a more or less authentic, but mainly discouraging, character,
which he was most ready to impart.
The distance from Gibraltar to Tangier is not more than thirty-five
miles, and we came to anchor in the open roadstead soon after
daylight on April 7. Unlike the ports on the Atlantic coast, the
shape of the land here gives some protection from the prevailing
westerly seas and winds; but in other respects this is a bad one. The
ruined mole, round which sand has accumulated, forms on one side
a dangerous reef, and elsewhere the shore shelves very slowly to a
moderate depth. Ships of any burthen are forced to lie out far from
shore, and the landing from boats is usually effected on the backs
of Jews, inasmuch as no Moslem will degrade himself by performing
such a service for a Christian.
On Good Friday the Jews were all engaged in the ceremonies of the
Passover; but, as the sea was unusually calm, we were able to land
on the ruins of the mole, and, after floundering through slippery
seaweed, we were not long in reaching the sea gate of the city.
We had already perceived that, although no longer in Europe, we
were yet under the shadow of European manners and customs. High
above the city walls we espied, as we neared the shore, several
conspicuous inscriptions, announcing the titles of various places
of entertainment. In the centre the ‘Hôtel de France’ gave
promise of culinary skill; but we preferred the ‘Royal Victoria
Hotel,’ whose title, in quite gigantic letters, first attracted
our notice, and which had been well recommended for cleanliness
and comfort. Our subsequent experience justified the choice, and
we had every reason to be satisfied with the attention we received
from the intelligent and obliging coloured proprietor, Mr. Martin.
Tangier stands on the western side of a shallow bay, on rocky
ground that rises steeply from the shore. Westward the hills
gradually rise in swelling undulations towards the Djebel Kebir,
or Great Mountain, covered with dwarf oaks and flowering shrubs,
that ends in the promontory of Cape Spartel. On the opposite,
or eastern, side the shores of the bay are low and sandy, but are
backed by the rugged range of the Angera Mountains, culminating in
the Ape’s Hill opposite Gibraltar.
As seen from the sea the town has a singular, though not an
imposing, appearance. Cubical blocks of white-washed masonry,
with scarcely an opening to represent a window, rise one above
another on the steep slope of a recess in the hills that faces the
NE. A few slender square towers belong to as many mosques of paltry
proportions. Numerous consular flagstaffs remind the European that
he still enjoys the protection of his own government, and on the
summit of the hill a massive gaunt castle of forbidding aspect shows
where he might expect to lodge if that protection were removed,
and he were to give offence to the native functionaries. Zigzag
walls encompass the city on all sides, pierced by three gates,
which are closed at nightfall.
The stranger, who knows that Tangier is one of the most important
towns of Marocco, and the residence of the representatives of the
chief civilised States, is apt to be shocked when he first sets
foot within its walls. The main street is as rough and steep as
the most neglected of Alpine mule-tracks, and disfigured by heaps
of filth—importunate beggars of revolting aspect, led about by
young boys, assail him at every step—there is no bazaar, as in
eastern towns, and the miserable shops are mere recesses, where,
in an unglazed opening, little larger than a berth in a ship’s
cabin, the dealer squats surrounded by his paltry wares.
On longer acquaintance, he will somewhat modify his first
unfavourable impression. Unlike the towns of Southern Europe, where
the main thoroughfares are cared for by the local authorities, while
filth is allowed to accumulate in the byeways, the dirt and offal
are here let to lie under his nose in the most public places, while
the steep narrow lanes—reminding him of Genoa—that intersect
the masses of closely packed houses, are generally kept clean and
bright with frequent whitewash. The silent dead walls that front the
public thoroughfares conceal the interiors of houses that are rarely
opened to the eyes of Europeans, but are not wanting in the signs
of wealth and of artistic taste. The dread of arbitrary exactions,
that elsewhere in Marocco drives the Moor as well as the Jew to
conceal the possession of property as carefully as men elsewhere hide
the evidence of guilt, is less keenly felt here. For in and around
Tangier, but nowhere else in this country, it may be said that life
and property are tolerably secure, not only from outward violence,
but from the caprice and cupidity of men in authority. The presence
of foreign diplomatic agents, and the constant communication with
Europe, have brought the Moorish authorities at this spot to some
extent under the control of civilised opinion, and the disastrous
encounters with France and Spain have convinced the Moor that,
with all his personal bravery, he cannot resist the regular forces
of his European neighbours, and must not provoke an unequal conflict.
Such historical recollections as are connected with Tangier are not
flattering to the self-love of the two nations of Europe that have
had most to do with it.
In 1437 the Portuguese, who then held Ceuta, attacked the town,
but their army was defeated under the walls, and they were forced
to conclude an ignominious peace. The terms included the cession of
Ceuta to the Moors, and the delivery as a hostage of Dom Fernando,
the king’s brother. The other stipulations not having been
executed, the victors threw Dom Fernando into prison at Fez, and
when he died in captivity hung up his body by the heels over the
city walls.[1]
The fortune of war was changed in 1471 when the Portuguese took
Tangier and several of the towns on the Atlantic coast, and the
Moorish Sultan was forced to pay tribute to King Emanuel. Under
less vigorous guidance, the Portuguese were unable to retain their
ascendancy, but they kept possession of Tangier till, after nearly
two centuries, it was, by a secret treaty, ceded to England as part
of the dowry of Catharine of Braganza on her marriage with Charles
II. When the brave Governor Dom Fernando de Menezes received the
information, he entreated the Queen Regent to spare him the grief of
seeing the city made over to the enemies of the Catholic faith. Her
answer was the offer of a Marquisate if he obeyed, and dismissal
from her service if he persisted in resisting her will. He chose
the latter, threw up his command, and devoted the rest of his life
to writing a history of the city. The English Court set great store
by the new acquisition, believing, as the Earl of Sandwich said,
that if it were walled and fortified with brass it would yet
repay the cost. But English policy was then at its lowest ebb,
and neither vigour nor intelligence directed any branch of our
affairs. The English settlers sent out were an ill-conditioned
rabble, ignorant of the country, its language and manners, and
the Governor and the garrison were no better than the rest. After
accomplishing one useful work by constructing a mole that converted
the roadstead into a secure harbour, they were disappointed in their
expectation of an extensive trade with the interior, and, what was
more galling, were worsted in every encounter with the Moors, till,
in 1685, the Government in London decided to abandon Tangier. When
this became known at Lisbon, the Portuguese strongly urged the
impolicy of abandoning such a position to pirates, and requested
that it should be restored to them on condition that the English
should have free use of the port. With characteristic meanness and
imbecility the Duke of York—soon afterwards James II.—opposed
the gift, and urged that the honour of England required that the
place should be dismantled, and be left for occupation to whoever
could hold it. His advice prevailed; and, on the retirement of
the English force, the mole was effectually blown up, destroying
the only good harbour for shipping on the seaboard of Marocco—a
distance of fully nine hundred miles.
Nature, however, has made Tangier the port of North Marocco, and, in
spite of human perversity, it is a place of some importance. Ready
access to the fertile provinces lying between the Straits of
Gibraltar and Fez has made it the centre of a considerable trade
in hides and grain, which go to France and England, to say nothing
of cattle and other supplies for the garrison of Gibraltar. Its
nearness to Europe has made it the residence of the representatives
of the principal civilised Powers, and its admirable climate has
attracted invalids from Gibraltar and elsewhere, in spite of such
drawbacks as dirt, bad smells, and the utter absence of roads.
On our arrival, we were most kindly received by Sir John Drummond
Hay, to whose intimate knowledge of the country and justly acquired
influence with the Moorish Court we are largely indebted for whatever
success attended our journey. We learned from him that the Sultan
had issued orders to the Governor of the Atlas provinces to allow
Hooker to visit the range of the Great Atlas south of the city of
Marocco, and to take every precaution for his comfort and safety;
but he added that, although there was no reason to doubt the
Sultan’s good faith, every artifice would be used to defeat the
object, and that it would not be prudent to start for the south
without an autograph letter from the Sultan himself, for which
he had already made application. The Court was at this time at
Fez—several days’ journey from Tangier; and, as business moves
at a slow pace in this country, it was probable that we might have
to wait some time for the necessary document. We therefore at once
decided on devoting the interval to excursions in the neighbourhood
of Tangier and Tetuan. The latter city lies at no great distance from
the lofty peaks of the _Beni Hassan_, probably the highest part of
the north-western range of the Lesser Atlas, best known as the Riff
Mountains. There could be no doubt as to the botanical interest
attaching to a visit to that range, the higher region of which is
entirely unknown to naturalists, and we were very desirous to make
an attempt in that direction. After full consideration, however, Sir
J. D. Hay felt it necessary to object to our project, as involving
undue risk. The Riff mountaineers enjoy a virtual independence,
merely paying tribute to the Sultan. They are fierce and fanatical;
and the presence of a Christian on the highest mountain, which
is rendered sacred by a famous _marabout_—tomb of a Mohammedan
saint—would be regarded as a profanation. Meantime, we were led
to hope that we should be able to ascend the mountains nearer to
Tetuan, and there was no difficulty whatever about excursions in
the neighbourhood of Tangier.
Our first walk, in the afternoon of the 7th, was in the agreeable
society of Sir J. D. Hay, to Ravensrock, his summer residence, on
the wooded slope of the Djebel Kebir, overlooking the straits. Near
the city gate we passed the cemetery, where turbaned tombstones
almost disappear amidst the copious growth of prickly pear
(_Opuntia vulgaris_), and then went some way through dusty lanes
between lines of American aloe (_Agave americana_), and quickset
hedges surrounding gardens where palms, acacias, and a few poplars
were the prevailing trees. As we cleared the enclosures, and got
into irregular, open ground, where steep slopes of uncultivated
land alternate with patches of tillage, our eyes were gladdened
by the sight of many a bright southern flower, already blossoming
abundantly, in spite of the weather which, till lately, had been
unusually cold. Trefoils, Medicagos, vetches, and other leguminous
plants were here the predominant forms, as they are everywhere in
the spring flora of the Mediterranean region. As we began to ascend
the flanks of the Djebel Kebir, the character of the vegetation
changed. Where the ground has not been cleared to make a garden for
some of the European residents, whose little villas are scattered
over the slope, the ground is covered with masses of luxuriant
shrubs, and climbing herbaceous plants, among which some familiar
forms of the North are mingled with many exotic species. Thus we saw
roses, brambles, bryony, honeysuckle, and white convolvulus holding
their ground amidst masses of lentisk, myrtle, Phillyrea, Alaternus,
dwarf prickly oak (_Quercus coccifera_), gum cistus, and the golden
profusion of five or six species of the _Cytisus_ tribe that replace
our native broom and gorse. After ascending several hundred feet
by the roughest of paths, carried along a shaded gully, we entered
through a gate the terraced garden whereon stands the house.
Nothing of its kind can surpass the beauty of the view. The steep
slope below is planted with oranges and pomegranates—the first
laden with golden fruit, the second with crimson flowers—broken
here and there by palms, figs, olives, and carob trees, standing
against a background of deep blue water, dancing in the gentle
westerly breeze. On our left the steep slope of the mountain,
rising over against the blue outline of Cape Trafalgar, forms
the portal through which the Atlantic pours its current into the
Mediterranean. Along the opposite shore of Spain every undulation,
from the coast to the distant purple sierra, is plainly seen. The
little town of Conil and the very houses of Tarifa are discernible
with the naked eye, and visitors are enabled through a glass
to watch the people as they come and go, and that extraordinary
phenomenon for Southern Spain, the diligence, that of late years
has plied between Algeciras and Cadiz. Turning to the right, the
eye reaches the entrance to the Mediterranean, between the rock
of Gibraltar and the loftier summit of Ape’s Hill; and in clear
weather the range of the Serrania de Ronda, stretching towards
Malaga, is seen on one side, while on the other the snowy peak of
the Beni Hassan, south of Tetuan, closes the view. To give variety,
if that were wanting, there is the ceaseless passage of shipping
through this greatest of maritime highways, in a double stream of
vessels, of every size and every nation, from the great Peninsular
and Oriental steamer to the Moorish felucca. It is an example of
the readiness with which sound travels over an unbroken surface,
that the morning and evening gun at Gibraltar, nearly forty miles
distant, are usually heard at this spot.
In the course of several delightful evenings passed in the agreeable
society of Sir J. D. Hay and his family, we obtained much curious and
valuable information respecting the country and its inhabitants,
most of which was confirmed by our own subsequent observation
and experience. We already knew that Marocco is the China of the
West, and that while other Mohammedan States have been drawn,
though at a tardy and halting pace, into following the general
movement of European progress, this has remained more isolated
and more impenetrable than even the Celestial Empire itself. But
we were scarcely prepared to find that the utmost excesses of
barbarism are matters of daily occurrence in a country so close at
hand; and though we had read startling statements in the books of
preceding travellers, and heard confirmatory tales during our stay
in North Marocco, we were inclined to think that, at the worst,
these referred to solitary acts of cruelty, probably magnified
by the proverbial tendency to exaggerate all that is strange and
horrible. It was not until we had spent some time in the southern
provinces, beyond the reach of European prying observation, that we
could persuade ourselves that these terrible stories of cruelty and
wrong merely give a true representation of the ordinary condition
of the country. Sir J. D. Hay, who probably knows it better than any
other European, was not slow to testify to the good qualities of the
rural population of Marocco, and the general absence of crime. We
were afterwards led to believe that if life and property may be
said to be tolerably secure throughout the portion of the empire
really subject to the Sultan’s authority, this is due rather
to the fact that temptation is rare, and the danger of swift and
bloody retribution imminent, than to the existence of any high moral
standard among the people. It is a strange inversion of all notions
of government, that crime should come from above rather than below,
and that the dread that men feel for the safety of their persons
and goods is directed rather to the constituted guardians of order
than to the outcasts from society. The first feeling of one unused
to a barbarous government is surprise that it should be allowed even
to exist, much more that it should possess considerable stability,
and be handed on from one generation to the next, without a general
outburst of resistance. Observation tends to explain this seeming
enigma. Bad as it may be, the oppression exercised by the few
strikes only those who are in some way conspicuous. The common mass,
who offer no special temptation to extortion, escape comparatively
unhurt, and feel little sympathy for the victim. Accordingly it is
only when a Sultan or a Governor indulges in mere gratuitous acts
of cruelty against his humbler subjects, that we hear of a general
revolt. Oppression is, after all, less intolerable than anarchy;
and at that very time most men would have chosen to live in Marocco
rather than in Sicily.
Among other objects of interest Sir J. D. Hay showed us a coloured
view of the Great Atlas range, as seen from the neighbourhood
of the city of Marocco, executed at the time of his father’s
mission to that city in 1829, and this naturally engaged our
special attention.[2] The most singular point in the structure of
the mountains was a very long range of what were represented as
precipitous rocks of seemingly uniform height and structure, that
appeared to rise abruptly from the plain, and to form an almost
continuous outer wall or rampart on the north side of the chain. We
were also shown a copy of Hollar’s[3] rare engraving, representing
Tangier at the period of the English occupation, with the soldiers
of Charles II., in their cumbrous uniforms, strutting on the mole.
Those who have read his interesting and lively little work,
‘Morocco and the Moors,’ will not be surprised that so keen a
sportsman and close an observer of the habits of wild animals as
our host should have many curious anecdotes to tell; but we were
not prepared to hear that less than twenty-five years before a
lion had been killed close to the spot where his beautiful villa
now stands. At the present time no animal of prey larger than a
jackal is seen in this part of the country, but the wild boar is as
abundant there as it is everywhere throughout Marocco. No doubt the
religious scruples that forbid the use of the flesh have gone far to
prevent the natives from reducing the numbers of these mischievous
brutes. One anecdote in favour of an animal whose moral character
stands in low repute may here be permitted.
Sir J. D. Hay had brought up a young leopard in his house until
the animal had reached his full size and strength, and it seemed a
scarcely safe companion for the younger members of his family. He
therefore resolved to present it to the Zoological Gardens in London,
where it was duly installed. Some two years later, when on a visit
to England, its former master bethought him of the leopard, and,
going to the gardens, recognised the animal and spoke to him in
Arabic. The once familiar sounds immediately awoke the animal’s
memory, and it at once displayed the appearance of unbounded, but
joyous, excitement. On explaining the circumstances the cage was
opened, and the animal showed the utmost delight at the approach
of its early friend and master.
On the night of Easter Sunday, while enjoying the cool air and the
view from the roof of the British Residency, we beheld that grand
display of the Aurora Borealis, which was visible at the same time
throughout Western Europe. As in the equally brilliant auroras
of the preceding autumn, which the popular imagination in many
different parts of Europe had attributed to the burning of Paris,
the characteristic feature of this display was the pale flickering
crimson tinge that rose from the northern and western horizon towards
the zenith. Brilliant auroral phenomena are rarely seen in so low a
latitude as Tangier; but thirty-two years earlier Hooker had beheld
them from a still more southern station, during the visit of the
Antarctic Expedition to Madeira in 1839, as described by Sir James
Ross in the narrative of that voyage.
We were much impressed by the accounts we received of the
remarkable salubrity of the climate of North Marocco, and we
gathered abundant evidence to the same effect in regard to other
parts of the territory. Nothing is more rare than to find a country
where neither the natives nor foreign visitors have any complaint
to make against the climate, and in that respect Marocco is almost
unique. As regards the season of our visit, however, our case was
that of nearly all travellers in whatever country they may find
themselves. We had arrived in an exceptional season! How often is
this fact gravely stated as something remarkable and unusual in the
experience of the narrator, whereas, if he would but reflect, it
merely represents the common experience of mankind in most countries
of the earth! Excepting some portions of the equatorial zone,
where the seasons recur with tolerable constancy, our notions of
the climate of a place are got at by taking an average among a great
many successive seasons. It is true that our own islands afford an
extreme instance of variability; but elsewhere in the temperate zones
of both hemispheres, the difference between corresponding seasons
in successive years is often very great. Any one who watches the
meteorological notices published in our newspapers, must be aware
that if any particular day, week, or month be compared with the
general average for the same period during a long term of years, he
will find it to be either considerably hotter, or colder, or drier,
or moister than the corresponding average day, week, or month; and
when registers shall have been kept for a sufficient time in other
countries, the same result will be seen to hold good, though in a
somewhat lesser degree. Travellers will then be prepared to find that
they should expect to enjoy or suffer from an exceptional season,
and will think it more remarkable when they happen to alight on a
season that approaches near to the average. That preceding our visit
had been unusually severe; snow had been seen at Tangier, and had
lain for some hours on the rock of Gibraltar, and, as a consequence
affecting the object of our journey, the spring vegetation in North
Marocco was unusually retarded. At the same time, so far as our
sensations went, nothing could be more agreeable than the climate of
this season, the thermometer in the shade during the day varying from
60° to 66° Fahr., and the air being delightfully clear and bracing.
On April 8 we started for a short excursion to the headland of Cape
Spartel. In the immediate neighbourhood of Tangier Europeans may
safely walk or ride unattended; but, as we were going a little beyond
the ordinary limits, it was considered prudent to give us the escort
of two soldiers, and to these we added a baggage mule and a native
guide. In a botanical sense we were about to travel over beaten
ground—the only spot in all Marocco where a naturalist can without
difficulty wander at will over rocky hills that retain their natural
vegetation. The little that was then known of the flora of the empire
would have dwindled to a scanty list if we had struck out the rich
collections that successive botanists during the last 100 years have
brought from the Djebel Kebir and the adjoining hilly district west
of Tangier. Although there was little prospect of new discovery, the
expedition could not fail to offer a veritable feast to a botanist,
and especially to one not already familiar with the vegetation of
the opposite coast and the adjoining region of southern Portugal.
After standing the fire of some harmless ‘chaff’ from the Jew and
Moorish boys that loitered about the city gate, we soon got clear
of the enclosures near the town, and descended through cultivated
land into a little grassy valley that lies below the hilly range
of the Djebel Kebir. Bright spring annuals—blue and yellow lupen,
crimson Adonis, a deep orange marigold (_Calendula suffruticosa_),
blue pimpernel, and other less conspicuous flowers—enlivened the
tillage ground; but the northern botanist is more struck by the
perennial species that hold their ground on the large portion of
the soil which the plough has not touched. Predominant among these,
as elsewhere throughout a large part of the Mediterranean region, is
the palmetto, or dwarf palm (_Chamærops humilis_). Where unmolested
by animals, and protected from the periodic fires that the native
herdsmen renew for the sake of getting herbage for their cattle,
it forms a thick trunk, ten or twelve feet in height, which probably
takes a long time to attain its full size; but in the open places it
is commonly stemless, and covers the ground with its radiating tufts
of stiff fan-shaped leaves. Many plants of the lily tribe abound;
but in this mild climate most of them had flowered in winter, and
few now showed more than their tufts of large root-leaves. Most
conspicuous is the large maritime squill (_Scilla maritima_ of
Linnæus). The flowers are not large or showy, and do not correspond
with the size of the bulb which often equals that of a man’s
head. Another species of the same genus (_Scilla hemisphærica_) is
more ornamental, as are the two common asphodels. The slender iris
(_I. Sisyrhynchium_ of Linnæus), whose delicate flower lasts only
a few hours—opening one at a time on successive days, appearing
about mid-day and withering in the afternoon—is very abundant.
On reaching the hollow ground, where a slender stream runs through
damp meadows, we were charmed by the delicate tint of a pale blue
daisy that enamels the green turf. It is merely a slight variety
of the little annual daisy (_Bellis annua_), so common in many
parts of Southern Europe; but the blue tint does not seem to have
been noticed elsewhere. The larger blue daisy, afterwards seen as
one of the ornaments of the mountain region of the Great Atlas,
was at first supposed to belong to the same species; but, besides
that this is perennial, it shows other less obvious differences.
It was on the slopes of the Djebel Kebir, where the stony ground
is almost exclusively occupied by a dense mass of small shrubs,
few of them rising more than three or four feet from the ground,
but nearly all covered with brilliant flowers, that we first began
to seize the really characteristic features of the North Marocco
flora. A great variety and abundance of flowering perennials of
shrubby habit is, indeed, a distinguishing feature of the whole
Mediterranean region; but very little observation was needed to
show that we were here in that well marked division that includes
Southern Portugal, South-western Spain, and the opposite corner
of Africa. This may be called for distinction the Cistus and Heath
region; for though most of the same kinds of Cistus and Helianthemum
extend as far as the south of France, and many species of heath
inhabit the Atlantic coasts of Europe as far north as Connemara,
it is only here that both these tribes flourish together, and give
a prevailing character to the vegetation. Most conspicuous of all is
the gum-cistus (_C. ladaniferus_), which in the Sierra Morena and the
adjoining parts of Spain and Portugal obtains such predominance that
for twenty miles together one may ride through a continuous thicket
where the peculiar scent of the gum that covers the leaves and
young branches is never absent. About Tangier the rich purple spot
that usually adorns the base of the large petals is wanting, and the
flowers show unmixed snowy white. Of the same tribe, besides several
true _Cisti_, there are many species of _Helianthemum_. Of heaths,
along with the commoner kinds (_Erica arborea_ and _E. scoparia_),
we saw in abundance the rarer and more characteristic forms,
_E. australis_ and _E. umbellata_. _E. ciliata_, one of our English
rarities, is here very scarce, though it grows on the opposite
side of the Strait. Our common heather (_Calluna vulgaris_)
still holds its ground, but in a poor and stunted condition. The
rhododendron of the East (_Rh. ponticum_), that is at home in
the mountain region of Asia Minor and Syria, and which strangely
reappears here and there among the low hills between Tarifa and
Algeciras, on the north side of the Straits, has not been found
on the African shore; but until the coast between Tangier and
Ceuta has become more accessible, it will not be safe to assume
that it is wanting. Among the many shrubby leguminous plants whose
flowers give the prevailing golden tint to the hill sides, two of
the Broom tribe (_Genista triacanthos_ and _Cytisus tridentatus_),
plants of very peculiar aspect and characteristic of this region,
attracted our attention. It is impossible to omit another ornament
of the hills—a plant rather widely diffused but nowhere common
(_Lithospermum fruticosum_), whose azure blue flowers formed a
charming contrast with the surrounding masses of golden colour.
The botanical district to which the northern corner of Marocco
belongs has been already called that of the Cistus and Heath, but no
single species of those tribes exactly conforms to the limits above
pointed out. There are, however, several less conspicuous plants
whose distribution more closely agrees with those limits. The most
singular of these is the _Drosophyllum lusitanicum_, a plant of
the sun-dew tribe, whose branched stem bears several large yellow
flowers. The numerous slender strap-shaped root-leaves, nearly a
foot in length, that are gradually contracted to the thickness of
whipcord, are beset with pellucid ruby-tipped glands, and present a
peculiarity that appears to be unique in the vegetable kingdom. Any
one who has remarked the growth of ferns must have seen that in the
young state the leaves are rolled or curled inwards, so that in the
process of unfolding the face or upper side of the leaf, which was
at first concealed, is gradually opened and turned to the light. A
similar process occurs in many other plants; but in _Drosophyllum_
alone, so far as we know, the young leaf is rolled or curled the
reverse way, so that the upper side of the leaf is that turned
outwards. It appears to grow in many parts of Southern Portugal;
reappears on the north side of the Straits of Gibraltar near Tarifa
and Algeciras, and on the southern side about Cape Spartel and on
the hills above Tetuan, where it commands a view of the opening of
the Mediterranean, but extends no farther eastward. Very similar is
the distribution in Europe of two ferns whose natural home seems to
be in the Canary Islands—the graceful _Davallia canariensis_, and
the _Asplenium Hemionitis_ of Linnæus. Both occur here and there
in shady spots, from the rock of Lisbon to Algeciras and Tangier,
but are unable to travel eastward beyond the Pillars of Hercules.
The scarcity of trees in this country is mainly due to the
mischievous interference of man. The same ignorant greed of the
herdsman, who to procure a little meagre herbage for goats sets
fire to wide tracts of brushwood, that has reduced whole provinces
of Spain to a nearly desert condition, has been equally busy and
equally effectual in Marocco. The evergreen oak, which might produce
much valuable timber, is the chief indigenous tree of this country;
but, except on the rocky western declivity of the hill above Cape
Spartel, few here arrive at a moderate growth, and the same is true
of the Portuguese oak (_Quercus lusitanica_). The latter, indeed,
never attains a considerable stature; but, where preserved from
damage, it forms thickets some twenty or thirty feet in height,
and, if duly protected, would help to preserve the hilly districts
of this region from being annually parched by the summer sun. One
of the shrubby evergreen oaks of this country (_Quercus coccifera_,
L.), whose dark green spiny leaves are more like those of a holly
than of an ordinary oak, might perhaps be successfully introduced
in the south-western parts of the British islands. Its very dense
foliage would make it valuable as a screen, and it produces a good
effect when mixed with other shrubs.
Although the distance did not exceed ten or twelve miles, we had
so much to do in filling our tin boxes and portfolios that the sun
was sinking in the Atlantic as we reached the lighthouse at Cape
Spartel. It is impossible not to feel some interest in this structure
that for so many a mariner marks the limit of the great continent,
more than three times the area of Europe, that remains, in spite
of all the efforts of modern enterprise, the chief home of all that
is strange and mysterious and unknown in the world. It represents,
too, the only concession that the Moor has made to the demands of
modern civilisation; for the building has been raised at the cost
of the Sultan of Marocco, though the expense of its maintenance
is shared between the four Powers, England, France, Italy, and
Spain. The representatives of these States at Tangier form a board
of management, and each in turn undertakes the actual control and
inspection of the building. It was by an especial favour, and on
the ground of our scientific pursuits, that we received permission
from the Spanish Consul-General, then Acting Commissioner, with
the concurrence of his colleagues, to lodge for the night within
the building. It stands on a rocky platform some 250 feet above the
sea. The massive tower, or pharos, that bears the lantern, is about
eighty feet in height, and, with the annexed building, is enclosed by
a strong wall, forming an outer court. The interior of the building
is singularly picturesque. An inner octagonal court, surrounded
by pillared arcades, supported on round, slightly stilted arches,
with a fountain of cool spring water in the middle, gives access to
the rooms, small and bare but perfectly clean, of which three were
given for our accommodation. Some fowls and eggs supplied by the
lighthouse-keeper, eked out by the provisions we had carried from
Tangier, produced an excellent supper, and the evening was fully
employed till a late hour in arranging and laying out the spoils
of our first day’s work in Marocco. It was near midnight when,
before turning in for the night, each in turn paused in the court
to enjoy the exquisite beauty of the scene. The full southern
moon poured a flood of silver light through the arched spaces,
converting the pattering spraydrops of the fountain into pearls and
diamonds. The shadows of the slender columns lay like bars of ebony
on the white flags; while, for a roof, the Great Bear, every star
twinkling its brightest, stretched upward towards the zenith. The
great tower rose in dark shadow, for the lantern was turned away
from us; but we could discern, streaming out to seaward, in spite
of the apparent clearness of the air, two faintly marked cones of
yellow light that were soon quenched in the moonlight. The air was
still, the sea was quiet, and at first the silence seemed unbroken;
but as the listener stood, the pulses of the great ocean, though
they smote but gently the cavernous rocks below, beat distinctly
on the ear, and marked the passing minutes.
We rose betimes next morning, finding fresh enjoyment in each breath
that we drew of the delicious air, and after breakfast set out for
a walk southward along the coast. For the first two or three miles
the rocky ground sloped downward towards our right, and finally fell
steeply to the beach. It was apparent that the season was not quite
advanced enough to enjoy the full beauty of the flora, but we found,
besides the _Drosophyllum_ already mentioned, many interesting
forms. Orchids were not so abundant as they usually are at this
season in the warmer part of the Mediterranean region. _Platanthera
diphylla_, growing in shady spots, was the only uncommon species.
An indentation of the coast marks the spot where a slender stream
descends to the sea through a stretch of white sand; and beyond
this the rocky coast rises but slightly above the sea level. Our
steps were directed towards the so-called Cave of Hercules. This
was originally a mere hollow in the face of the sea cliff; but from
a remote period of antiquity it has been quarried for the purpose
of extracting the hand-mills universally used in this part of
Marocco. These, which are quite the same as the Scotch _querns_,
are cut out in the rudest way by hammer and chisel, leaving the
surface of the rock marked by a series of circular indentations about
eighteen inches in diameter. In this way the original dimensions of
the cave have been greatly enlarged, and, as it is still worked for
the same purpose, the process is sure to be continued. In connection
with the question raised of late years as to change of relative
level of land and sea within the historic period, we observed some
very ancient markings that showed the works to have been carried
somewhat below the present level of high tide; but we could trace
none that appeared to reach so low as that of the ebb tide.
So far as the evidence at this point goes, it seems to prove a slight
amount of submergence during the period for which the rock has
here been quarried. This period may probably be reckoned at 2,000
years, and possibly much exceeds that limit. Taken in connection
with still existing remains in Greece, Asia Minor, the Phœnician
coast of Syria, and Egypt, it tends to show that the changes in
the general level of the Mediterranean coasts, indicated by many
geologists, must have proceeded very slowly during the historic
period, and that the more considerable oscillations, that have
undoubtedly occurred near Naples and on the east coast of Sicily,
have been mainly due to the local influence of volcanic action.
The soil near the cave was much mixed with sand carried by the wind,
and the plants seen were chiefly widely diffused species that find
tolerably uniform conditions of life on the sandy shores of the
west coast of Europe. The rocks near the cave produce samphire and
the sea fern (_Asplenium marinum_), just as they do in Cornwall;
while _Diotis maritima_ and _Lotus Salzmanni_, a local variety of
the widely spread _Lotus creticus_ of Linnæus, were frequent on
the sands. The chief ornament was _Statice sinuata_, whose delicate
azure flowers were already in blossom, long before most of the
species of that late-flowering genus.
Our course now lay inland; but, instead of following the direct
way back to Tangier, we were led by a false report (our first
experience of blundering interpretation of English by the help of
Moorish Arabic) to bear to the left, and recross the Djebel Kebir,
so as to take Sir J. D. Hay’s villa of Ravensrock on our way back
to the town. Near the track we passed close to a native village,
or _douar_, the first which we had seen. When we had heard that the
native population is broadly distinguished into two classes by the
fact that some retain their original nomadic habits so far as to
live permanently in tents, moving from one spot to another during
the course of the year, while the others live in houses, and have
become rooted to the soil, it never occurred to us that there could
be any difficulty in distinguishing between one class and the other
with the help of such obvious characteristic marks. But we soon found
that the difference is but slight, and not very apparent. The black
camel’s hair tent is often, both in seeming and in fact, a more
durable dwelling than the miserable huts, composed chiefly of slender
branches to which the dried leaves still adhere, covered sometimes
with brown straw, and oftener with some tattered fragments of cloth,
the remains of worn-out garments. Only the mountain tribes, the
descendants of the ancient Bereber stock, whose southern descendants
we were to become acquainted with in the valleys of the Great Atlas,
have preserved the familiar use of stone masonry in this part of
Africa. Laden with plants, and with appetites sharpened by our
climb over the hill, we returned to our comfortable quarters at the
Victoria Hotel. We did not pass over the very highest point of the
Djebel Kebir; but an observation taken some sixty or eighty feet
lower indicated an elevation of about 800 feet above the sea level.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: This episode forms the subject of Calderon’s noble
play—_El Prencipe Costante_.]
[Footnote 2: A copy of this view is given in the frontispiece.]
[Footnote 3: Wentzel Hollar (or Hollard), a native of Prague, was
sent to Tangier in 1669 by the king to take views of the town and
its fortifications, which he afterwards engraved. Being one of the
most distinguished engravers of the time, he settled in England, and
executed some 2,400 prints, chiefly etchings, which are remarkable
for their spirit, freedom, lightness, and finish. Hollar was one of
the most conscientious of men; he worked for the booksellers at the
rate of 4d. an hour, and always with an hour-glass on his table,
which he invariably laid on its side, to prevent the sand from
running, when not actually at work with his pencil or graving tool,
and even when conversing on his business with his employers. He is
said to have died in great poverty, with an execution in his house
and a prison in prospect.]