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.
On returning from our interview with El Graoui, we felt that our most
urgent want was reliable information about the districts mentioned
by him as within the possible range of our expedition. Hooker
had already ordered Abraham to make inquiry for some one who had
actually travelled eastward from the city into the mountain country;
but such a person was by no means so easily found as a stranger
might suppose. The few Moors who ever go into the interior are
cut off from communication with the natives by ignorance of the
language; and, besides this, the Moor is usually too incurious and
intellectually sluggish to carry away information about anything
not directly concerning his own business or pleasure. Had our
stay in Marocco been prolonged, we might perhaps have been able to
collect some details as to the interior provinces from natives of
the mountain valleys who must from time to time resort to the city;
but it is very doubtful whether a Christian stranger could obtain
anything reliable in this way. People constantly forget how wide
the gap is that separates the mind of a modern European from that
of the inhabitant of a barbarous country, where the conditions of
society are such that apprehension of danger to life and property
becomes the predominant feeling. The notion that a man can care to
acquire knowledge of any kind for its own sake is not for a moment
admitted, and suspicion is necessarily the first feeling aroused
by any inquiry, however apparently harmless. Bearing this in mind,
we often felt astonishment at the share of success that has been
attained by some geographers, and especially by Captain Beaudouin,
the author of the French War Office map of Marocco. It is true
that some large portions of that map are quite unreliable, and that
it contains many grave errors as to the direction of the mountain
ranges and valleys; but, considering that the greater part of it was
compiled by the comparison of itineraries and descriptions furnished
by a large number of separate native informants, the wonderful thing
is that in many districts it should approach so near to accuracy as
it does; and it undoubtedly shows a very remarkable degree of care,
patience, and intelligence on the part of its author.
In the course of the afternoon, Abraham brought to us an elderly Jew,
named Salomon ben Daoud, described as a man employed by the merchants
trading with the interior, and familiar with all the roads leading
to those parts of South Marocco with which the people of the city
have any intercourse. The contrast between the appearance of this
man and that of the Moors was complete. He had something of the
downcast, long-suffering expression common among his coreligionists
in this country, but an unmistakable air of intelligence that at
once made him interesting. It was easy to understand that, although
despised and often ill-used by the governing race, these people
by their superior brain-power have contrived to make themselves
indispensable to their masters, and that all people in authority,
from the Sultan to the deputy-governor, are forced to rely upon
them. Although Salomon was able to answer readily most of our
questions respecting the several routes leading from Marocco into
the neighbouring portions of the Great Atlas, it was inevitable
that the information given by an uneducated man should fall very
far short of what we should have desired; and the abundant catalogue
of names of places—very few of them possible to be identified on
the map—which he glibly enumerated, rather tended to confuse than
to clear up our understanding of the country. With a view to mature
deliberation on a point of such importance Salomon was requested to
write down the chief particulars which he had given us verbally;
and his memorandum, written in Hebrew, was afterwards translated
by Abraham. This translation, checked by the memoranda taken down
at the time by Ball, is printed in Appendix B, and affords a slight
contribution towards the topography of a portion of Marocco hitherto
completely unknown to Europeans.
The morning of Saturday, May 6, found us still in doubt as to our
future course; but, on a careful review of the whole matter, we
adopted a decision of which we saw no subsequent reason to repent. It
appeared that if we decided on pushing forward into the interior
of the country we might be able to reach the head of the valley of
the Tessout—the main western branch of the Oum-er-bia—lying
probably about 120 miles due east of Marocco. The portion of the
Atlas chain whence that stream flows is in all probability as high
as the range seen from the city, and perhaps somewhat higher, and
the district through which we should travel was and still remains a
complete _terra incognita_, as to which Beaudoin’s map is almost
certainly incorrect.[1] Against these strong inducements we had,
however, to set many weighty reasons in favour of the alternative
course, which consisted in at once directing our steps towards the
main chain south-east of the city, and thence travelling gradually
towards the Atlantic coast, penetrating in succession to the head
of as many of the chief valleys as circumstances should allow.
The first course was open to the objection that, under any
circumstances, it would involve a considerable amount of travelling
through a comparatively uninteresting country—at least four
days, and probably six, for the route to and fro between Marocco
and Demenet, and four days at least for returning to Mogador;
and further, that if difficulties should arise to prevent us from
reaching the head of the Tessout valley, we might possibly miss
altogether the main object of our journey by failing to reach the
higher region of the Great Atlas. On the other hand, by coasting
along the northern skirts of the chain, and penetrating as many
valleys as might be found practicable, we should avoid altogether
the need for retracing any part of our course, and might reasonably
expect to reach a part of the chain whence a couple of days’
ride would carry us back to Mogador. The strongest argument was,
however, the consideration that by choosing the latter route we
should have numerous chances of accomplishing our desire to reach
the upper part of the mountain range, and that if we should find
impassable obstacles in one or another valley, we should yet
have an unimpaired chance of succeeding elsewhere. Hooker’s
strong impression that our future course would not be unopposed
gave especial weight to the latter view, and the sequel will show
that we were well advised. It was therefore decided to apply to El
Graoui for letters to all the Kaïds of the valleys subject to his
authority in the range extending from Tasseremout to the borders
of Haha, while, with a view to a possible change in our course,
he was also requested to write to the Governor of Demenet.
In one way or other the days passed in Marocco were so fully occupied
as to leave no leisure, and Maw alone was able to afford time for
an excursion to one of the low hills on the south side of the Oued
Tensift, seen on the left of the track by which we had approached
the city. The nearest of these—a rough mass of metamorphic rock,
rising nearly 800 feet above the level of the plain—is only
about three miles distant from the walls.
Our regret at not having been able to accompany Maw on this excursion
was much increased when towards evening he returned with a number of
interesting plants, several of which proved to be additions to the
Marocco flora. The most notable of these was an undescribed species
of the tropical and subtropical genus _Boerhavia_, and a curious
_Reseda_, seemingly distinct from any described species. Besides
these, he had gathered a variety of _Forskåhlea tenacissima_
described by the late Mr. Webb as _F. Cossoniana_, _Andropogon
laniger_, a fine grass whose leaves have the scent of Verbena,
_Echinops strigosus_, and one or two more species characteristic
of the flora of Southern Algeria.
Maw also visited some of the bazaars, and described them as miserable
and repulsive, and we preferred to let the carpet merchant who
had been recommended to us bring his goods to our quarters. The
carpets made here are not considered equal to those of Rabat,
but they are comparatively cheap and durable. On inquiring how our
purchases could be forwarded to Mogador, we found that the hire of
a camel with his driver for this weary four or five days’ journey
amounted only to about seven shillings of our money, and that the
risk of robbery was considered too trifling to be worth mentioning.
The comparison of five observations, taken on as many successive
days, gives for the altitude of our station in Marocco a height of
511·9 mètres, or 1,679 English feet. Allowing for the difference
of level, the height of the great square may be taken to be very
closely 500 mètres or 1,640 English feet. The observations were
calculated on the assumption that the barometer at sea level at
Mogador stood at 760 millimètres, and hence it is not surprising
that the results of each day’s observation vary from the mean,
in some cases as much as fifty feet; but, as settled weather
prevailed at this period, the mean adopted is probably very near
the truth. Most of the results of our observations (see Appendix)
agree well with the few observations previously made in the interior
by M. Beaumier and M. Balansa; but in this instance there is a
difference of seventy mètres (or 230 English feet), M. Beaumier’s
result being 430 mètres above the sea. No particulars are given
by him as to the instruments used, or the methods of observations
and reduction, and we feel no hesitation in provisionally adopting
the height resulting from our own observations.
As may well be supposed, the object that most fully and constantly
engaged our attention during our stay in Marocco was the view of the
Great Atlas range, for which the terraced roof of our house afforded
every needful facility. The interest attaching to an almost unknown
chain of great mountains was enhanced by the hope of penetrating its
recesses. We were often tantalised by finding clouds hanging about
the flanks, or clinging to the higher peaks, as happened during the
latter days of our stay, but there was always enough to be seen to
reward our attention. We were able to identify the mountain, Miltsin,
which Washington took to be the highest peak in the Atlas chain
visible from Marocco; but we had already, during the last day’s
journey before entering the city, satisfied ourselves that there
is no summit visible from the plain of Marocco that can claim any
marked predominance over its neighbours. Travelling, as we were,
nearly parallel to the main chain, we were far more favourably
placed than Washington, who approached the city from the NNW., and
always viewed the chain from nearly the same direction. The crest
is undoubtedly more sinuous than it appears as laid down on the
map, or when seen from a distance; some of the projecting summits
are therefore nearer to the eye than others; but it appeared to us
then, and our subsequent experience only strengthened that belief,
that most of the peaks or prominences in the higher portion of the
chain seen from the plain of Marocco, in a distance of fifty or
sixty miles, attain to very nearly the same height.
Washington speaks of a base-line of seventeen miles which served
him for his trigonometrical observations, but it is obvious from his
narrative that this cannot have been measured so as to admit of much
accuracy in his results. As a matter of fact, it appears from his map
and accompanying section, and from the narrative of his excursion to
Tagherain, that Washington considerably underrated the distance from
the city to the crest of the Great Atlas. His Miltsin is doubtless a
summit near the head of the Ourika valley, which apparently stands
some short way north of the axis of the chain. According to the
scale of his map Miltsin is twenty-seven and a half geographical
miles distant from the house which he occupied, whereas it is
impossible to estimate the true distance at less than thirty-three
geographical miles. If we allow for the height of Marocco above
the sea level, and increase the estimated height of Miltsin in the
ratio of its true distance to that assumed by Washington, we get
for the height of the peak 13,352 feet (4,069·6 m.) above the sea,
which is perhaps somewhat above the true measurement.
Owing to the prevalence of clouds during the latter period of
our stay in Marocco, we failed to secure a satisfactory outline
of the Atlas chain; but, through the kindness of Sir J. D. Hay,
we are enabled to insert a copy of a drawing made by the late
Mr. William Prinsep, who accompanied the mission to Marocco in
December, 1829. The view of the same range given in Jackson’s
generally accurate work must have been done from description or
from imperfect recollection, as it bears no resemblance to nature.
We had been many times struck by the demeanour of the wild birds
during our journey from Mogador. They seem in this country to be
quite free from what we look on as the instinctive fear of man,
which in truth is an inherited tendency only in those countries
where the human population habitually pursues them. As we rode along,
the turtle doves, which abound wherever there are trees or bushes,
scarcely seemed to notice our passage, and would remain perched upon
a bough close beside the track. Here in the city of Marocco a small
bird about the size of a sparrow, but much more elegant in shape
and attractive from its green-grey plumage—the _Fringillaria
Saharæ_—displayed still greater boldness. During our meals,
which were always taken in the central saloon open to the sky,
they would boldly alight beside us, and pick up the crumbs that
were sometimes purposely scattered for their benefit.
We saw nothing of the harmless serpents, one of which at least
is said to inhabit every house in Marocco, and which the natives
consider it unlucky to destroy or drive away. Probably they find
the food that suits them only in inhabited houses, and ours had
been so long untenanted that they had deserted the empty rooms.
Sunday, May 7, was fully employed in completing the arrangements
for our journey, and packing up the botanical collections already
secured. Our men had doubtless enjoyed the rest, and were gratified
by a distribution of new shoes, or rather slippers, which replaced
those pretty thoroughly worn out on the journey from Mogador. In a
country where the surface is generally stony, and the soil abounds
in plants beset by thick sharp spines, the thin slippers universally
used by the people are very soon consumed.
Abraham appeared to-day gorgeously arrayed in a new suit, with dark
yellow boots such as are worn by Moors of the better class. He had
grown much in importance during the last few days, since, in his
capacity as our interpreter, he, a Jew, has sat with his slippers on
in the presence of El Graoui, the most powerful subject in Marocco.
With regard to the position of the Jews, there can be no doubt
that the benevolent efforts of Sir Moses Montefiore, backed up
by the representatives of England and other civilised States, have
produced some permanent effect. In the coast towns, under the eyes of
European consular agents, they seem to enjoy security from violence,
and even from insult. In the city of Marocco, where they inhabit
a separate quarter, walled in and accessible only by two gates,
they are safe so long as they keep within those limits; but they
are still forced to walk barefoot when they pass into the city,
and are exposed to derision and insult against which they dare not
protest. In the remoter parts of the territory, where their scattered
communities are found here and there, their condition is apparently
still worse, and they are frequently subjected to brutal ill-usage;
but even there their superior intelligence and skill in industrial
crafts, for which the Moor is incompetent, secures them a certain
degree of consideration.[2]
We this day made acquaintance with Kaïd el Hasbi, the captain of the
escort of five men, who, along with our Mogador guard, was to travel
with us through the Atlas. Nature had given him a disagreeable
countenance with a forbidding expression, and our subsequent
experience fully confirmed the first unfavourable impression.
It had been arranged that our first day’s journey from Marocco
was to be a short one, and accordingly our final start on Monday,
May 8, was delayed until 8 A.M. Our large tent, too heavy for mules,
had been sent back to Mogador; but, nevertheless, our baggage formed
a very sufficient load for nine mules. Not counting our interpreter
and Hooker’s European attendant, we had nine followers engaged
in various capacities, besides twelve men in charge of the hired
animals, making up altogether, with the escort, who numbered
nine privates and two officers, a party of thirty-seven men and
thirty-three horses and mules. We wound slowly through the filthy
lanes of the Jews’ quarter, and went out by the south-east gate of
the city, having on our right the high wall that encloses the vast
gardens attached to the Sultan’s residence. Having entered the
city through groves of the date-palm, the foliage of which is too
tough for the teeth of the locust, we had scarcely noticed these
pernicious creatures on that occasion; but in the well-irrigated
tracts south and west of the city which are devoted to tillage
they had this year been more than usually destructive. It is in
their young condition, while still active on the wing, that their
voracity is greatest; but in that stage it is practically impossible
to contend with them. When they have attained their full growth they
become unwieldy, and at length nearly torpid; and it is then that
the natives endeavour to exterminate them, with a view to prevent
the females from depositing their countless eggs and leaving to
the district a legacy of future devastation.
It seemed that El Graoui, for his own reasons, wished to give us
a parting testimony of good-will and favour, without at the same
time committing himself too glaringly for native ideas. It was not,
doubtless, by mere accident that about a mile outside the walls we
found him close to our track, with a train of mounted attendants,
superintending the process of locust slaughter, and were informed
that he wished to bid us farewell. Mounted on a splendid black
charger, the old man, in spite of his unwieldy figure, had a
commanding appearance. His manner was quite friendly; and, as the
brief conversation proceeded, he rode along with us for a couple
of hundred yards, and then shook hands with many good wishes for
our safety and success.
The process of locust destruction which El Graoui was supposed to
superintend was of the rudest description. The bodies of the bloated
sluggish insects are swept into heaps with rough brooms, and a fire
of twigs is then lighted over each heap. On the way from Sektana
to Mogador, Maw afterwards saw another more expeditious process
adopted in a part of the country intersected by open irrigation
channels. Rough screens made of reeds are set up along one side
of the watercourse, as shown in the annexed cut, and the inactive
insects, being driven against them, fall into the water and are
drowned. Some effect may doubtless be produced by these contrivances;
but it seems very doubtful whether, if every locust that reaches the
inhabited districts were destroyed, the plague would be materially
abated. In a region including wide tracts almost without population
there are unlimited opportunities for depositing the eggs; from
these arise countless swarms, which, in their active condition,
are capable of traversing wide spaces in search of nourishment. The
suppression of the locust plague probably
[Illustration]
awaits the spread of some creature to which their eggs would afford
suitable food.
In great measure influenced by Washington’s account of his visit
to Tasseremout, and his conviction that from that place the highest
ridge of the Atlas might be reached in a single day’s excursion,
we had decided on making that our first halting-place; and, as the
distance can be little over twenty miles, we reckoned on reaching it
by evening. Our way lay about due south-east through the district
of Mesfioua, which is under the rule of a Kaïd, or subgovernor,
subject to the orders of El Graoui.
To the eye the country seems a dead level; but the rapid flow of
water in the covered channels and smaller open rivulets showed that
the slope of the ground from south to north is very decided. Along
the smaller watercourses we noticed in abundance what appeared to
be a new _Pulicaria_, but was afterwards found to be the same as
an eastern species (_P. longifolia_) described by Boissier.
We rode along in high spirits, delighted to leave the city, and
still more with the near prospect of setting foot on the mountain
chain whose unknown recesses had so long been a fascination for
us; and the only drawback on our enjoyment was the shifting veil
of clouds that hung about the higher summits, only now and then
allowing some rugged peak to stand out for a few moments. As we
gradually drew nearer, our attention was more and more fixed on the
remarkable line of flat-topped bluffs, conspicuous in the view from
the city, that extends for a distance of fully twenty miles along
the base of the Atlas chain, and on the east side seems to jut out
in a northern direction. From a distance the face appears quite
precipitous and almost vertical, and there is but one conspicuous
break in its continuity. This, as we afterwards found, is caused by
the stream running under Tasseremout, which has cut a deep channel
through the barrier.
After riding about three hours we approached an inhabited place,
which we were told was the residence of the Kaïd. We had left behind
us the tract of country ravaged by locusts, and the general aspect
of things was here much brighter than we had beheld since leaving
the coast region. The more brilliant green and more vigorous growth
of herbaceous plants led us to infer that, irrespective of the
influence of irrigation, the zone extending round the base of the
mountain region must receive at least some share of the more frequent
rains that occur there at seasons when the low country in general is
condemned to utter drought. On reaching the _kasbah_ of the Kaïd,
which showed as a low but substantial building, with walls sloping
outward, we were accosted by an official deputed to apologise for
the absence of his chief, who was to return towards evening, and to
invite us to halt there for the remainder of the day. As it was now
about noon, this proposition was met at once by a decided negative,
when the chief of our Marocco escort intervened and, with an air
of dogged insistance, urged the necessity for a halt. There ensued
the first of many an altercation with the same disagreeable person,
in which it is needless to say that Hooker’s decision and firmness
prevailed, and the order went forth to continue our journey.
Amongst the bushes near at hand we for the first time gathered a
curious, but no way ornamental, Cruciferous plant, first found by
M. Balansa, which exhibits the only distinct generic type yet found
in the interior of South Marocco, and has been described by M. Cosson
under the name _Ceratocnemum rapistroides_. It here grew four or
five feet high, with long slender branches; but in open places we
afterwards found it in comparatively stunted condition—a foot,
or less, in height.
The country, after quitting the _kasbah_, gradually changed its
character. Scattered blocks of moderate size showed themselves
with increasing frequency, and seemed to be of very varied
composition. Some were formed of a coarse-grained sandstone or fine
conglomerate, others appeared to be granitic, though deficient in
mica, while others looked like porphyry. The restrictions by which we
were bound prevented us from undertaking any close examination, and
still more from attempting to carry away specimens. The predominance
of silex in the soil was made apparent by the vegetation. We had
already often admired the pretty little rose-coloured _Spergularia
diandra_, common on sandy soil throughout Southern Marocco; but
this here became a conspicuous ornament; its numerous delicate
flowers forming large cushions of bright colour on the surface
of the soil. Among other characteristic species not before seen
were _Aïzoon canariense_ and a new species of _Anthemis_; but
the predominant element in the vegetation was furnished by the
_Leguminosæ_, and especially by the genera _Trifolium_, _Medicago_,
_Ononis_, and _Lotus_. Of the first two genera we found in the lower
region none but the common Mediterranean species, while the others
displayed many local forms. One _Ononis_ here found was altogether
new; and a _Lotus_, not elsewhere seen in our journey, seemed
identical with an Oriental species not hitherto found west of Greece.
As we advanced, the upward slope of the ground towards the foot of
the great range became much more perceptible, though still very
gradual. At near 4 P.M., we arrived at another house belonging
to the Kaïd of Mesfioua, and were informed that that functionary
was waiting to receive us, and expected us to halt there for the
night. The instinctive feeling of an Englishman who has made up
his mind to accomplish a certain distance in his day’s journey
is to close his ears to any suggestion of delay, and all the more
decidedly when there is reason to think that other people are
scheming to oppose him; so at first it seemed as if we should have
further altercation with our escort. But as prudence pointed out
that, whatever the feelings of the local authorities might be in
our regard, it would be injudicious to do anything to give offence,
and as at the same time the appearance of the country near at hand
promised good botanising, we speedily decided on making a virtue
of necessity, and with sufficiently good grace agreed to pitch
our tents. By this time the Kaïd had come out to receive us,
but retired after a brief salutation, it being understood that
conversation was reserved till evening.
Without loss of time, we sallied forth with our portfolios, attended
by one of the soldiers who was supposed to watch over our safety,
and directing our steps to a dry river-bed that winds through the
plain close by, were rewarded for our self-denial by finding a
number of interesting plants not before seen. The most conspicuous
of these was a _Tamarix_, which in some places grew thickly near
the banks. It is remarkable for the bright pink colour of the seed
vessel, and differed much in general aspect, though not widely in
structure, from the common _T. gallica_. The river-bed is probably
the natural channel of the stream that flows below Tasseremout,
part of which is diverted into irrigation channels, but during
rainy weather resumes its original course.
As the sun declined the clouds cleared away from the higher ridges
of the Atlas, of which we enjoyed the finest view we had yet
attained. Nearly due east and thence bearing towards ESE., was a
group of high summits which, to judge from several large patches of
snow, must be quite as lofty as that nearer to us. Between this,
which belongs as we believe to the district called Glaoui, and
the nearer range it was clear that a considerable valley runs deep
into the chain. The drainage of this valley must flow to the Oued
Tensift; but whether that be the main eastern branch of the river,
or an affluent not indicated on the maps, is as yet uncertain.
After dinner, we adjourned from our tent to pay our promised visit
to the Kaïd, who, according to custom, had green tea served in a
small low room, which was reached through intricate passages. As
a matter of course, the object of our journey was the chief topic
of conversation. Among other plants we spoke of the _furbioun_,[3]
or _Gum Euphorbium_, which we knew to be produced by a cactoïd
_Euphorbia_ that grows about the base of the Great Atlas, east
of the city of Marocco. Concurrent native testimony fixes the
province of Demenet as its chief home; and it must be very rare,
or altogether absent, in the districts traversed by us, as it is
scarcely possible that it should have been overlooked. Apparently
conciliated by some trifling presents, the Kaïd informed us that
he had in his garden some plants brought from Demenet, and offered
one of these, which was safely forwarded to Kew, as a gift to Hooker.
When nearly ready to start on the morning of May 9, we were informed
that the Kaïd meant to accompany us on the way to Tasseremout.[4]
This caused a slight delay, which was not unpleasantly occupied
in looking around us. The morning air was delightfully cool (58°
Fahr. at 6 A.M.), although the day before had been hot, and at 11
P.M. the thermometer had fallen only to 73°. The position of the
Kaïd’s dwelling was in itself very beautiful, in the midst of a
fertile country encircled by hills, and these backed by a majestic
range of lofty mountains. The line of escarpment skirting the base
of the Atlas, already distinctly seen in the view from Marocco, was
conspicuous on the eastern side, but towards the south was partly
concealed by fine olive groves. The mean of two nearly concordant
observations gives for the height of this place 2,399 feet (731·1
m.) above the sea.
At about 7 A.M. we moved, and, crossing the dry riverbed, very soon
began to ascend among low hills, apparently formed by erosion from
an upper plateau that surrounds the base of the mountains. We often
rode along hollow ways between high banks or lofty hedges formed
of tangled shrubs and climbing plants, in which were mingled some
familiar forms with several altogether new to us. A dog-rose,
scarcely distinguishable from the common British _Rosa canina_,
was common in some places, along with profuse masses of _Ephedra
altissima_ and other southern forms. Climbing high over all these
was a beautiful _Coronilla_, with very large white and lilac-blue
flowers. We knew that a fine species of this genus, first brought
from Marocco by Broussonnet, had been formerly cultivated in
England, though long since lost from our gardens; but the _Coronilla
viminalis_ figured by Salisbury shows yellow flowers, and is placed
amongst the shrubby species of the genus. It was clear that in the
plant before us the stems die down nearly to the root every winter;
and our belief that this was an entirely new species only yielded
to subsequent careful examination, which proved that it is no other
than Broussonnet’s plant.
The date-palm had disappeared soon after we entered the hills;
here, and elsewhere on our route, it seems to be confined to the
lower region, rarely attaining the level of 3,000 feet above the
sea. Its place was here supplied by the palmetto (_Chamærops
humilis_), which seldom forms a trunk, perhaps because it is not
allowed to attain a sufficient age. As we advanced, the vegetation
constantly offered a more varied and attractive aspect; and one of
our first prizes was a new species of thyme (_Thymus maroccanus_,
Ball), somewhat like the species of the Argan zone, but with
oblong leaves and uncoloured bracts. Of comparatively familiar
forms there were _Cistus monspeliensis_, and _C. polymorphus_,
the first species of that genus that we had seen in South Marocco,
the pretty little _Cleonia lusitanica_, with many other Labiatæ. Of
plants new to our eyes by far the most interesting was the curious
_Polygala Balansæ_. To those who know only the milkworts of Europe
and North America, it must seem strange to hear of a large shrubby
Polygala, with branches that end in a sharp point, few small leaves,
so quickly deciduous that it generally appears quite leafless,
and large flowers of a showy purple-red colour. In truth, although
there is great variety of form in this large genus, the species which
is common throughout the lower valleys of the Great Atlas is very
distinct from all its congeners. In Arabia and South Africa there
are some species forming dwarf bushes with spinescent branches,
but in other respects very different. When full grown this is six
or eight feet in height; and the round, green, almost leafless
stems give it, when the flowers are absent, much the appearance of
_Spartium junceum_, the large broom of Southern Europe.
After riding some way up a rather steep stony track, we reached a
grove of very fine olive trees, and our escort came to a halt. We
had reached Tasseremout. For some time we had seen a large pile of
solid masonry which crowned the hill immediately above the olive
grove. This seemed to deserve a visit; but, on the other hand,
the attractions of the surrounding vegetation were irresistible
to botanists. The matter was settled by Hooker proceeding to visit
the castle with the Kaïd, while Ball botanised,
[Illustration: FORT AT TASSEREMOUT.]
and Maw secured living specimens of some of the more interesting
plants.
The castle of Tasseremout is one out of a large number of similar
buildings standing on the northern outworks of the Great Atlas
chain that will afford interesting matter for inquiry to future
travellers when the country becomes more accessible, and the
lessened jealousy of the natives will make a thorough examination
of them less impossible than it would be at present. The natives
vaguely attribute their construction to Christians or Romans, the
same word conveying either meaning; but the Jews often explain this
to mean Portuguese. The general character of these buildings, as
far as our information goes, is tolerably uniform. The walls are of
great thickness and built of rough hewn stone: the arches are always
rounded and the lower chambers vaulted; and they are evidently places
of defence. There is little reason to believe that the Portuguese,
who held at one time or other most of the Atlantic coast of Marocco,
ever established a firm footing inland, and still less that they
had such a hold on South Marocco as would be implied by the erection
of a chain of forts along the foot of the Atlas. On the other hand,
the history of Mauritania during the long period of the decline of
Rome, and preceding the Saracen conquest, is an almost complete
blank, save for a few apocryphal stories. It is certain that the
lower country was once completely subject to Roman power and Roman
institutions, and it remains to be ascertained how far an organised
government survived the weakening of the central authority. That
the independent tribes of the Atlas may have been inconvenient
neighbours to the half-Romanised inhabitants of the plain is more
than probable, and that the forts should have been erected to hold
the former in check seems the most likely conjecture as to their
origin. Excavation, whenever that may be practicable, will scarcely
fail to tell something of the original occupants of these buildings,
and to diminish our ignorance of a dark period of past history.
As to the question which interested us most nearly, the Kaïd had
at first been reserved; and when it became necessary to decide, his
language was decidedly unfavourable. It was impossible, he said, to
reach the high mountains with snow on them from Tasseremout. Any one
attempting to do so would pass beyond his district, where he could
not protect us, and he could not allow us to incur such a risk. We
remembered Washington’s account of his winter excursion from
this place; and, what was more curious, we found that a tradition
of the visit of Christians who have gone up the mountains here
many years before survived among the people. When, in December,
1829, the late Sir J. Drummond Hay was received at Marocco with
great distinction by the then Sultan, it was arranged that, after
taking leave of the sovereign, the party should enjoy two or three
days’ hunting towards the foot of the Atlas, and they accordingly
encamped somewhere below Tasseremout. Washington and some other
officers attached to the mission resolved to take the opportunity
for ascending the mountains as far as possible. At starting they
evidently thought it practicable to attain the higher peaks from
this place by a continuous ascent, and appear to have been surprised
to find, after several hours’ climbing, when they had reached and
somewhat passed the limit of the winter snow, that the ‘highest
peaks were still far beyond their reach.’ To one familiar with
high mountain countries, the natural course for attaining to the
backbone of a considerable chain is by penetrating to the head of
one of the deeper valleys; and the course taken by Washington’s
party would appear no more promising than the attempt to scale Monte
Rosa from the plain of Piedmont by ascending the mountains behind
Ivrea. The mountain stream that flows below Tasseremout seems to
come from the SE., where the range presents no conspicuous summits;
whereas the higher points visible from our camp at Mesfioua lay
nearly due south. We were therefore not inclined to insist on
carrying out our original design of making Tasseremout our base
of operations; and when we were told that the valley of Ourika,
lying some distance to the west, led to the snowy mountains, we at
once decided on moving thither in the course of the afternoon. To
console us for our disappointment, the Kaïd invited us to a repast
which, like the food supplied at Mesfioua, was much better cooked
than usual. We especially appreciated some cakes, or bannocks,
of wheaten flour that made an agreeable change from the biscuit to
which we were often reduced.
Our impressions on this our first acquaintance with the outer region
of the Great Atlas were very agreeable. The country appeared populous
and fruitful. There was, indeed, little space for tillage, and that
was of the rudest kind; but besides the olive, which attains a great
size, the carob (_Ceratonia Siliqua_) and walnut, both growing to
perfection, combine beauty with economic value. The common _Opuntia_,
or Indian fig, also grows luxuriantly, and supplies an item in the
diet of the natives.
Before we started, about 3 P.M. a body of miserable-looking Jews
presented themselves, and offered a _mona_ of olives, chilis, cakes
of repulsive appearance, and some terrible spirituous liquor served
in a battered tin teapot. When we excused ourselves on the ground
that we had but just finished eating, they insisted that we should,
at least, partake of the liquor. Abraham explained that we could
not possibly drink out of a vessel so indescribably foul as the
earthenware cup presented to us; whereupon one of the women lifted
the skirt of her filthy petticoat, and proceeded to polish the cup
to her own satisfaction. There was something pathetic in the abject
air of these poor people, of whom there are many communities in
this part of the Atlas. Born to suffering and oppression, they yet
contrive to hold together, and even increase their numbers, thanks to
superior intelligence and skill which make them almost indispensable
to their neighbours. They are forced by law or custom to wear none
but black outer garments, and the older men have high brimless
cylindrical hats, tapering somewhat towards the top. They had taken
it into their heads that Christian strangers travelling with a large
escort must be persons of influence and authority, and had come to
implore our favour and protection. The men concluded by kissing the
skirts of our _jellabias_; and, as we were riding off, the women,
who stood in a group behind, advanced and kissed our knees, in true
Oriental fashion. We were assured by our interpreter, who naturally
sympathised with the people of his own race, that they often
suffer from ill-usage, for which there is absolutely no redress;
but it does not appear that their condition is practically as bad
as that of the same people in Roumania and some other so-called
Christian States. In some respects, indeed, they are better off
than their Mohammedan neighbours. Not suspected of wealth, their
head-men are not liable to be ‘squeezed,’ and, living apart,
they are not engaged in the intestine feuds of adjoining tribes,
and not often victims of the cruelties that accompany them.
During our afternoon ride from Tasseremout to the Ourika river, our
course lay to the SW., along the base of the escarpment which had
so much attracted our notice from a distance; and much discussion
arose as to the origin of the vast masses of boulders that were
spread along the comparatively level shelf along which we rode,
and descended, in some places at least, to the margin of the plain.
During the ascent from our camp of last night to Tasseremout, we
first made acquaintance with these deposits, at a height of about
3,000 feet above the sea, that of the olive grove at Tasseremout
being 3,534 feet. On the slope to the right of our track a mass
of irregular weather-worn blocks of sandstone lay in disorder, the
most prominent characteristic being that they were all of large size
(measuring from ten to twenty cubic yards, according to Maw), with
little or no intermixture of finer materials. Maw was disposed to
consider these as glacial deposits;[5] but, among other difficulties,
it was urged that the moraines of glaciers descending from a great
mountain chain always include a large proportion of finer materials
along with large blocks, and that these include fragments of the
various rocks through which the glacier flows, while it was _primâ
facie_ improbable that such a mountain chain as that before us should
be altogether formed of the sandstone of which, so far as we could
see, the blocks before us were exclusively composed. Soon after
leaving Tasseremout, we came to the opening of a narrow valley or
ravine cutting through the escarpment, and exposing to view great
piles of boulders similar to those seen below, but on a larger
scale. After this, the escarpment showed an unbroken face for a
distance of about ten miles. Seen near at hand the slope, which from
a distance seemed nearly vertical, appeared to have an inclination of
from 35° to 45°, and rose to an average height of about 1,000 feet
above its base. The upper beds, whose exposed edges were everywhere
seen, seemed to consist of hard limestone with siliceous concretions;
while the lower beds were of less consistent shaly limestone.
The ground over which we rode in a SW. direction, parallel to
the base of the escarpment, was very irregular in form, rising in
places into mounds sloping inwards towards the cliffs as well as
outwards towards the plain; and, although in great part covered
with vegetation, it appeared pretty certain that the whole was
composed of irregular masses of sandstone intermixed to some
extent with fragments of the rocks forming the barrier beside
us. To those who did not admit the probability of the boulders
before seen being deposited by glacial action, the phenomena here
presented offered strong confirmation. A glacier descending from
a main valley necessarily flows down the slope towards the plain,
and could not turn aside at right angles to its previous course,
and to the line of maximum inclination, unless there had been a
barrier of solid rock stopping the way, of which there was here not
the slightest indication. Whether or not materials that are borne
down a steep incline by sub-aërial denudation form a talus with a
diminishing slope resting against the face of the escarpment, or form
mounds at a greater or less distance from the base, is a question
depending upon the momentum with which they descend; and this again
depends on three elements—the weight of the blocks, the steepness,
and the length of the slope. If the greater portion of the materials
consist of large blocks launched down a steep and long incline, these
will travel to a considerable distance from the base of the cliff,
and gradually form a barrier that will stop the course of other
similar masses, until these accumulate into considerable mounds, as
may be seen in many instances of berg-falls in the Alps. Whatever be
the origin of these accumulations in this part of the Great Atlas,
it would appear that the conditions that gave rise to them have now
ceased, as we saw no instance of any large block that appeared to
have been recently borne to its present position.
As it was important to reach our night quarters by daylight, we
collected few plants during the afternoon ride; a fine _Asperula_,
with numerous flowers varying from white to pink, seemingly not
different from the Spanish _A. hirsuta_, was a great ornament here,
and in several other places on the skirts of the Atlas.
As we approached the opening of a considerable valley, it was
apparent that the escarpment ridge here comes to an end, and is not
again traceable as a distinct feature in the scenery on the west
side of the Ourika river. The name Ourika, with which we now became
familiar, appears to be that of a district, governed by a Kaïd
under the orders of El Graoui, which includes a fruitful valley
running deep into the heart of the Great Atlas. Having descended
from the hummocky ground over which our course lay, we struck the
valley just where the stream issues from between the hills below
a village named Achliz. Nearly all the water was at this season
diverted from its natural bed into irrigation channels that are
carried through the plain of Marocco. We rode some way along one of
these channels, bordered by tall reeds, and a grand _Senecio_, fully
eight feet high, but not yet in flower, probably _S. giganteus_ of
Desfontaines. The wide bed of the stream, nearly quite dry, afforded
the most convenient situation for our camp, which, by the mean of
two observations, stood at 2,889 feet (880·6 m.) above the sea.
Though the more we afterwards knew of him the less we liked him,
we observed, on this and some other occasions, that our disagreeable
Marocco leader, Kaïd el Hasbi, shared in a quality that is common
enough among uncivilised people, and especially noticeable among
the Moors, of which due account should be taken by travellers. It
is not the desire to please, still less real benevolence; but a
certain impressionableness, an involuntary sympathy, that makes
these people thoroughly uncomfortable when they see a stranger
annoyed or disappointed. In common phrase, ‘they can’t bear to
see you put out.’ An Englishman, a German, or a Swiss may travel
with you the whole day, when you are suffering from annoyance,
perhaps at something in his own behaviour, but will either not
notice, or, if he do notice, will not heed, your humour. In this
country a man who would see you killed or tortured with perfect
composure, can be made more uneasy than you are by seeing you vexed
or out of spirits. The disappointment we felt at our first failure
to penetrate the inner recesses of the Atlas from Tasseremout, had
been very perceptible during the afternoon; and though our Kaïd was
quite resolved to let us go no farther than he could possibly help,
he wished to do what he could to keep us in good humour. Accordingly,
we were scarcely housed in our tents when El Hasbi appeared with a
supply of fruit, oranges, dates, and walnuts, that he wished us to
regard as a present from himself, but were doubtless part of the
ample _mona_ that was obtained from the village authorities. Later
on, the Kaïd of the valley made his appearance, civil, but no way
cordial, and the result of the interview was not very favourable
to the prospect of penetrating to the head of the valley.
We were led at the time to suppose that the more or less overt
resistance which we encountered here and elsewhere in South Marocco,
was altogether due to a fanatical dislike to Christian strangers;
but we afterwards doubted whether that feeling, undoubtedly prevalent
among the Moors, is equally general among the Shelluh population;
and as we came to know more of the practical results of our visits
to these remote valleys, the less surprised we were to know that
they were unwelcome to the inhabitants. The Sultan’s order, as we
learned from El Graoui, had gone forth that we were not to be put to
any expense for the living of ourselves and our attendants during
our journey. So far as our personal consumption went that was but
trifling, as we largely relied on the provisions we had carried with
us. Our attendants no doubt consumed an ample share of food at the
one serious meal of the day, usually after nightfall, and were ready
to set to again in the middle of the night when a good opportunity
was offered; but it was the rapacity of our soldier escort that
made our visit a calamity in a poor district. Not satisfied with
gorging themselves with meat, cakes, and fruit, they demanded
luxuries such as green tea and white sugar, and in such quantities
that, as we afterwards learned, Kaïd el Hasbi used to send from
each valley in which we halted a mule laden with provisions to
his family in Marocco. An altercation which we heard this night,
and which was repeated more than once on subsequent nights, arose
from our usually pacific Mogador Kaïd, who revolted at seeing the
lion’s share of the spoil taken possession of by his colleague
from Marocco. On this occasion the quarrel threatened to become
serious, and the long guns were actually drawn out of the red cloth
cases; but it seemed that on one or both sides discretion overcame
valour, as peace was ultimately restored. Our interpreter, Abraham,
as a prudent man, wished not to embroil himself in these disputes,
and it was only gradually that we got to learn the real mischiefs
and hardships of which we were the involuntary occasion.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: See Appendix C.]
[Footnote 2: The reader who may desire a more detailed account of the
city of Marocco than we can afford is referred to the Description
and Plan of the City, by M. Paul Lambert, in the _Bulletin_ of the
French Geographical Society for 1868.]
[Footnote 3: See Appendix D.]
[Footnote 4: As constantly happened, it was very difficult to fix the
sound of this name. The accent sometimes fell on the last syllable,
sometimes on the penultimate.]
[Footnote 5: See Mr. Maw’s paper on the ‘Geology of Marocco.’
Appendix F.]