MORE FIGHTING
“By my help,” said the Sherif, “the telegraph was established between
Tangier and Tetuan, by way of the Fondak, and, after Wadi Ras had been
occupied, for the first time Spanish troops camped in Ain Yerida. Three
columns came from Ceuta, Tetuan and Larache, and I welcomed them in the
great square of the Fondak, the Kaids with me, and our horses stabled in
the surrounding patio. There were many thousand Spaniards with Villalba
and Jordana, and it was the first meeting of the armies of the East and
West. I felt again as I had done when I let the Spaniards into Larache,
for this was a great step and one that could never be retraced. These
men had been my friends and then my enemies. They were my friends again,
but, while the tribesmen fired salvos of rejoicing, I wondered how long
it would be before they found another use for their bullets. The flag of
Spain was raised over one of the houses, but twice the post fell,
because the supports were not strong enough. I looked up at the green
flag over the Fondak, and thought perhaps it was a sign.
“The troops did not stay long in Ain Yerida, for I kept this place as my
headquarters against the Anjera, who, well armed and well led, were our
worst enemies. They got as many rifles as they wished from Tangier, and
their Kaids were rich men who had interests with the merchants of the
coast. Until this tribe submitted, there could be little peace in the
country, for their emissaries went everywhere, stirring up the Jebala
against me. There have been many battles in Anjera, but never another
like El Biut. I pitched my camp at Harkha, from which I commanded the
easiest road to Anjera, by way of Wadi Khemis. It was agreed that the
Spaniards should attempt to cut off the customary retreat of the Anjera
to the International Zone, and they accomplished this by occupying
Trafuatz and Dar Ain Said.
“The main attack was in my hands, and I divided my mehalla, which
numbered 5,000 of my best warriors, into five columns, hoping that at
least one or two of these would be able to approach unnoticed. We
marched quickly, not even waiting to destroy the villages, and everybody
who fled in front of us was killed, whether man or woman, lest warning
should be given to the enemy. I flung out a line behind us, with orders
to shoot anyone who tried to break through. The wadi gave us good
shelter, for the trees were thick, and men held their jellabas over
their rifles, so that the sun should not gleam on the barrels, but the
columns on the hills travelled more slowly, for they had to climb up and
down and pick out the best way among the scrub.
“Maaden and Beni Khelu were occupied while a man’s shadow was still
longer than himself, and communication was established with Ovila, who
commanded a mehalla of the Kaliphate. The first fight was at Suq el
Khemis[79] but I had agents in the town who spread terror among the
people, saying the whole of Jebala were at their doors. We wasted few
bullets, but surrounded the town and let no man pass out armed, and none
towards the front. We took such a quantity of arms and ammunition that,
after this, most of my people carried two rifles, one on the back and
one in the hand. If I had not been with the army, there would have been
no more fighting that day, for Khemis is a large town and loot was
plentiful. I left my place at the head and rode in the rear, my gun
ready, but not for the enemy. If a man dropped out to empty his shoes,
or even turned to look back, he ran the risk of a bullet. In this way
the march was swift and we were in the heart of Anjera before they knew
of our coming.
“The worst stronghold of the tribe was El Biut. The gates were always
decorated with the heads of the innocent, and bodies rotted outside the
precincts. From far away kites could be seen hovering above the fortress
of the brigands, and, by this sign, every traveller made a great circle
to avoid the ‘house of death.’ This place was left to the Spaniards, and
they lost several hundred dead before they took it.[80] At dawn three of
their columns left Ceuta, but they had to fight their way from village
to village. At last the heights of Haj el Hamara, Kudia Xerija and Ain
Yir were occupied; but many wounded were left to the kites, who some
said were jinns and familiars of the Kaids Abd el Kadu Kheragin, and el
Jarru.
“El Biut was well placed for defence, for the country is very rough,
with wadis which hid the snipers of Anjera and cliffs which acted as
walls against an enemy. The tribesmen made sorties down the beds of the
streams, and fighting was so fierce that, when a Moor died, his friends
had no time to take his rifle and cartridges. The women, who generally
load for their kinsmen, took up the guns of the dead and fought beside
their fathers and brothers, firing, with a babe wrapped in the haiks,
believing that, because of this, their sons would the sooner be
warriors, with a blessing on their arms. The wounded dragged themselves
into the bushes and fired painfully, till their blood clotted their
triggers. The Anjera were outnumbered and surrounded, but they were
fighting in their own country against men untrained to find a target for
each bullet, and they might have prolonged the battle, but for the guns
which tore up their walls and blew their roofs into powder.
“Warships bombarded El Biut from the sea at El Marsa, and the men of
Anjera, seeing their possessions destroyed, made a great charge, under
the leadership of Ali el Hannani, and fought their way through the first
line, but they could not face the guns. About 300 Spaniards died and
many tribesmen. The castle was destroyed and the rest of the enemy
mounted their horses, taking their women behind them, and fled into the
wild country where Spain could not follow.
“It was a useful victory, for El Biut had always threatened Ceuta, which
is only a few kilometres from it. The kites fed well for a week, and
then they dispersed, for their meat was gone. Anjera could not be
defeated with the loss of El Biut. With you, if a town is taken, it is
the end. With us it means a few more guns in the mountains. I had pushed
my columns through Ben Ayib, where three men would have held up our
army—the Sheikh and his two sons, lying flat behind their roof only
firing when they could see the eyes of my men! We came that night to Ait
el Khamra and dispersed ourselves round the hills to sleep. Sentinels
kept watch on every high place, and I visited them all during the night,
but there was no disturbance. With the first light we came down and took
the villages below, burning them after we had supplied ourselves with
food and such arms as the tribesmen left. The women were sent back,
behind my rearguard, which advanced always half a day’s journey behind
us, keeping the ground clear of the enemy. I communicated with them by
means of cavalry, divided into small parties and well mounted. I also
had a force of irregular riders, who took no part in the battles but
held themselves always ready to go to the aid of the rearguard.
“It was my intention to say the evening prayers at Sidi Ali, which is
near the boundary of Anjera and el Fahs, and then I proposed to turn
north-eastwards and, cutting off the stragglers from El Biut, march
right through the Anjera country to the sea. I lost many men in
skirmishes, but we were too powerful an army for a great fight.
Tribesmen would charge down on our column and harry it like a flocks of
ibis round a herd, and then, when a few shots had been exchanged,
scatter among the gullies, brown riders on dark horses, seen for a
moment against the green, and then lost among the rocks which they
simulated. The only way of enforcing submission was by burning the
villages, and this I did systematically, for an Arab will risk his life
to guard his property, but never pay money for his life! At last there
were signs of distress, for the men of Anjera saw their wealth
disappearing. Small Kaids came to treat with me, but I refused to speak
to them. I said, ‘Let your Sheikhs come,’ and named certain of them,
‘and let them come with all their men, as it is right they should visit
the Sultan.’
“It was then Ramadan, and, though men fight the fiercer for hunger, it
is a bad month for negotiations. Peace should be arranged on a full
stomach, when a man has no ill-will for anyone. The day’s fast was the
longer because it was summer, and the sun rose early and set late. While
we marched, every wadi seemed to contain a stream, which was a
temptation of the devil, but there was no chance of surprises, for few
slept at night. After sunset the whole camp was a kitchen, and,
fortunately, the Anjera sheep were plentiful. Songs echoed among the
mountains, with the sermons of the Imams and the cry, repeated even
while men satisfied their hunger, ‘There is no God but God.’ One
morning, when my servants were preparing the early meal which must be
finished before the first rays come over the horizon, news was brought
of the approach of many horsemen. There was no shouting, and they came
openly with their flags flying, so there was no question of battle.
‘There are many hundreds, Sidi,’ said my slave, whom I sent to discover
the truth. ‘They come to make their submission with the Chiefs of their
villages.’ A few minutes later came the rattle of many shots and the
answering salute from my guards.
“My tent was in the middle of the camp, a great black and white pavilion
like this one. The two flags flew on either side, and, in front, turned
towards the House of Allah (Mecca), which they saluted night and
morning, were four cannon. From where I sat, not moving or hurrying
myself, I could hear all kinds of music, punctuated by occasional shots.
Drums, pipes, cymbals, all the noise of the country was there in my
honour, and my own men, not to be outdone, began beating military drums,
and each man played differently, but the bugles were the most full of
sound! Slowly up the hill came the white army, for each man wore his
best jellaba, and the saddle-cloths of the Kaids, green and red, were
decorated with silver and hung with fringes. Their bridles were heavy
with silver and the manes of their horses plaited with tassels. Each
tribesman was armed, except the Kaids, whose servants carried their guns
before them. I still sat in my tent, but, when the music was very near,
I called one of my captains and ordered him, ‘Tell the Sheikhs that if
they would see me they must enter my camp without shoes. They have
perhaps forgotten, but I told them this on another occasion, a long time
ago.’
“There was a halt on the edge of the camp, and then a slave ran in to
me, whispering, ‘They are coming.’ An army of many thousands was ranged
behind my tent and the great of Anjera came to me alone, except for
their drummers and their standard-bearers, but the bareness of their
feet could not be hidden. They stood outside my tent and I did not
invite them to enter. I sat as I was, in silence, as if I did not know
they were there. So it was for some minutes. Then they began to murmur
among themselves, and, at last, one entered and kissed, not my shoulder,
as was his right, but the edge of my sleeve. The others followed and,
when they had all saluted me, I spoke to them, using the phrases of a
Sultan to his subjects. I told them that they should have prostrated
themselves and placed their turbans under my feet, and that I could not
accept their submission until I had considered the matter with the
Spaniards.
“While I sent messengers to Jordana, they were to camp in a certain
place beyond the tents of my army, and I chose this spot because, to
reach it, they would have to pass through the whole of my mehalla and
would be impressed by its strength. They answered, ‘Allah has given us
into your hands, but not into those of the Christians,’ and I replied,
‘If I choose to put a Christian foot on your necks you cannot prevent
me; but I have made peace with Spain in order to preserve your liberty,
not to destroy it.’ They would have disputed this with me, but I said,
‘Go now, for a man’s word is according to the number of his rifles.
Judge now if mine is strong,’ and they said, ‘Your strength is great,
but, Allah forgive us, you mistake the enemy.’
“All that day beasts were slaughtered before my tent, and, because of
the heat and the flies, the smell was intolerable, for they died slowly,
bellowing because of their cut knees, and, since it was Ramadan, no one
might remove the meat till after sunset. But the night which followed
was like noon in the camp. The men of Anjera had long been hungry, for
their villages had been destroyed as a blight passes over barley, and
there was no time for them to save their stores, so each man took a
portion of a bullock or sheep and, in every corner, there was a fire.
The Kaids remained in their tents, consulting anxiously, for they had
heard there were Spaniards in my camp; but the tribesmen ate together,
mixing their songs with their music and, by the dawn, none could tell
which was enemy and which friend.
[Illustration: A view of Tetuan, showing tower of mosque]
“With the submission of Anjera, the Spaniards should have been content.
The sea coast was now clear for them, and what can they gain from the
mountains, where a man lives by the toil of his women and the prowess of
his own rifle? Near Melilla there is much wealth under the ground, and,
for this reason, the Germans interested themselves in the country. When
they said to Abdul Melek, ‘Raisuli shall be Kaliph of all Morocco and
you shall have as much money as you wish,’ they asked in return all the
mining rights in the mountains, as well as what they already possessed
in the East. Yet I think our hills are barren. To this extent has Allah
blessed us, for there is nothing to tempt the greed of Europe.
“By the end of that year of which I have been telling you, there was no
more need to make war. Those of the tribes who were not with me were
afraid to be against me, and, with my pass, a man might travel from one
end of the mountains to the other. I remember a Spaniard was once with
me, and he wanted to shoot hares or foxes in the Jebala. He had expended
all his ammunition on the way, for game was plentiful, so he asked me,
‘Will you lend me some cartridges?’ I answered, ‘Count the grains of
flour in that dish,’ for he was eating kous-kous. ‘I will give you a
bullet for each one.’ He laughed, for the dinner had been prepared for
many, and asked, ‘How far can I go with safety?’ I looked out over the
hills, which fell in innumerable folds, like a mantle that has been
crumpled on the ground, and I answered, ‘Choose a horizon where you
will, and go to it. Then look all round you, and choose another, the
furthest. Go also to that, and you will be safe, if you say, ‘I am with
the Sherif.’”[81]
After this Raisuli seemed inclined to keep silence for the rest of the
day, but, urged to continue his story, he muttered, “War may be good for
a man, but politics are certainly bad. While we fought together the
Spaniards and I were friends, and when, in the spring,[82] Jordana sent
20,000 of his troops back to Spain, I was content, for I thought that at
last matters were going as I had planned. It does not need an army to
hold this country. It needs but two men who are in accord. I moved my
great camp to Keitan, near Tetuan, so as to be in touch with Jordana,
and, at one time while I was there, I had more than 10,000 men behind
me. This was only for a few days, the time for which a man may bring his
own rations, for I fed none but my own mehalla. The levies from the
tribes supplied their own food, and when at war, every man lived on the
country. This is the quickest way of forcing peace upon the enemy.
“Several times Moors came from Tangier to see me, saying, ‘The Germans
are winning many battles. Why don’t you join them and make war on
France?’ My answer was always the same, ‘Wait,’ for I thought,
‘Certainly if the Germans are strong enough to beat the whole of Europe,
they are strong enough to crush Morocco until there is nothing left of
us, not even our graves.’ In this case, it would be wise to be their
friends, but I had given my word to Jordana, so I did nothing except
keep hold of the Fondak and the way to Tangier. It was about this time,
I think, that Abdul Melek[83] paid me a last visit, but, Ullah, he had
wasted millions of marks among the tribes and was no nearer his purpose.
We met among the hills of Beni Mesauer, for I would not see him openly,
and he spoke of Ahmed es Senussi, whom Germany would make ruler of all
Egypt, and said to me, ‘This man is not even a Sherif. Would you be less
powerful than he?’ I said to him, ‘My power does not depend on titles.
Take care that you do not stretch your hand too far.’ He said, ‘If you
were Kalipha I should be your Wazir in Taza, which is a profitable
post.’ Truly he thought of nothing but money, and yet, a little later,
when he fled from Tangier hoping to reach Marnei, the Anjera caught him
and took all his wealth. They might also have taken his life, but that
Zellal interceded for him and brought him into his house. The French
offered a great prize for him, but el Ayashi (Zellal) would not give up
his guest.
“This was perhaps the time of my greatest power, and my camp was never
empty. Always some of the great Kaids were with me, and, as in Azeila, I
gave food to all who asked for it, not according to the ways of the
East, which says, ‘For two days shalt thou be my guest, but on the third
day, by which time all that thou hast eaten on the first shall have
passed out of thy body, thou shalt go thy ways,’ but for as long as they
desired. The old trouble was growing with Jordana, in spite of the many
gifts he made me, furniture and Spanish mules and great sheep from his
own country. He wished me to acknowledge Mulai el Mehdi as Khalifa and
to become his Grand Vizier. I told him often, ‘If I do this I shall have
no authority left with the tribes, for no mountaineer will respect me if
they see me inclining before a man of nothing.’
“I asked him what he complained of in my rule of the mountains, and he
said, ‘Your men pass freely through our zone and come in and out of the
towns, but it is not possible for a Spaniard to move in the hills. You
impose your own taxes without the permission of Spain, and we have no
control over your justice. Men complain of cruelty and extortion, and
why is this? You are so rich that you cannot need any more. Half the
International Zone is yours. You have farms which contain the best land
in the plains, and your houses are in every town. Why do you make the
people discontented by taking so much of their produce?’ I answered, ‘It
is the custom, and if I asked from them but one centime in the thousand,
they would be just as indignant. It is the habit of the Arab to
complain, and he is happiest when he has a good reason for his plaints.’
“Jordana said, ‘You have dispossessed the Kaids who were friendly to us
and, without my authority, you have appointed many who were our enemies
and who, even now, are not willing to work with us.’ I answered, ‘If a
man can control his people it does not matter to me whether he is your
friend or mine. It is a bad policy to put a man in a position of
authority just because you are grateful to him. It is also bad to sell
posts, as was the way of Abdul Aziz and Mulai Hafid, and truly the
French are wise in this matter, for they make friends with the strongest
Arabs and allow them to rule their own people.’
“Since the time when I was Governor of Azeila I have tried to keep peace
with the great Kaids, and some were always with me, and I consulted them
about the affairs of their own tribes. Mohamed el Kharaji was my most
trusted adviser, and Zellal, who could have been Sultan in my place had
he wished, Hamed el Harras of Beni Ider, Mohamed el Hartiti, Chief of
Beni Hosmar, who regarded Tetuan each morning and prayed that it might
be delivered into his hands. After the fall of El Biut, Abderrahman
Bulaich of Anjera joined me, and others of my companions were Abdul
Ramin of Gaba, el Melanain, el Arbi Belkhidar, and Ben Hassem, another
Sheikh of Anjera. There were more beside these, for this was my
strength, and by means of my friends I ruled the land. A man who cannot
use the strength of others will never make full use of his own.
“There were some tribes or families which never submitted to me for
long, and of these were the Chiefs of Kherba, two brothers of whom the
oldest was the leader. The land of Sumata is not fit for an army, so,
when the villages refused to pay tribute, I sent a few men only, with
the intent of arranging the matter peaceably, but el Kherba seized two
of my soldiers and beat them before his women, which was a disgraceful
thing. When this news came to me, I sent my nephew with a mounted
column, telling him exactly how he was to surprise the village. The men
of Sumata were watching. Night and day they posted sentinels among their
hills, but my men left their horses with a friendly Kaid, and,
scattering, came in twos and threes till they were within sight of the
village. Then they hid themselves among the bushes, which are very low
so that a man must creep on his knees, and even then his head may be
seen. My soldiers tied branches round their rifles and plaited twigs and
leaves over their heads, so that if any sentinel noticed a movement
among the scrub, he would think it was the wind blowing, or some animal
crawling into cover. In this manner they crept very slowly towards the
houses, wriggling like snakes between the sentinels. Two they dragged
down and killed before they had time to cry out, and at the time of the
aysha prayer, when the Sheikhs were in the house of the Imam, they
dashed into the village, shooting everyone whom they saw and setting
fire to the thatch.
“El Kherba crept out of a window of his house, while men broke in at the
front, and, mounting his horse, fled straight into another party of the
attackers. They took him prisoner and brought him down to Tazrut,
though, three times, his men tried to rescue him. When he was led into
my house with his hands tied, I said to the guards, ‘This is not the
right treatment for a Sheikh,’ and they released him. Then I told him,
‘It is written in the Book that death shall be the punishment of the
subject who rebels against the Sultan,’ and he answered, ‘I am not your
subject, but it seems the will of Allah that I die.’ ‘It is a pity to
waste good men,’ I said, ‘for the country needs them. Let your section
of Sumata pay tribute to me, and there shall be peace between your house
and mine.’
“He agreed, and went back to his people unhurt, but he did not keep
faith for long. A caravan was attacked in his country and, when I sent
men to enquire into the matter, they disappeared, and not even their
bodies were found. I was very angry, and I sent el Kharaji with a picked
force, telling him to bring back the head of el Kherba. I said, ‘Do not
trouble about the village, or he may escape during the fighting. Hide
yourselves well, and wait till you see where he goes; then kill him, or
take him prisoner. Afterwards his tribe will submit, for it is only he
who excites them against me, hoping to profit by his independence to
enrich himself.’
“They did as I had ordered, but, as they went stealthily through the
hills, a goatherd suddenly threw down his stick and fled towards the
village. El Kharaji thought, ‘Even if he has seen us and warns the
people of our approach, it does not matter, for we are double their
number.’ He had divided his party and sent some round to the rear of the
village and others to command it from a convenient height. Soon there
was a sound of firing, and el Kharaji was puzzled. Thinking that perhaps
one of his other columns was being attacked, he advanced quickly up the
hill till, hidden among the stones, he could see the village across a
hollow. The firing came from among the houses and, when music broke out
with shrill quivering of women’s songs, el Kharaji knew it was a
wedding. With his field-glasses he could even see the mare standing
before the house of the bride. Then women came out and hung two sacks on
the saddle, one containing ‘taria’ (thin cakes of unleavened flour) and
the other raisins. ‘It would be a pity to disturb the wedding,’ said el
Kharaji. ‘Besides, many of the men will go out with the bride, and there
will be few left to defend the village.’ So they waited, for it appeared
that the goatherd had not given warning of their approach.
“Towards sunset the bride came out of the house, and she was wrapped in
a new mantle which covered her completely, and many handkerchiefs were
hung over her face, above which was a great straw hat sewn with silk
cords. There was much shouting as the mare was led away, and stones were
thrown after it to make the marriage happy.[84] Women sprinkled milk
before the bride but she did not turn her head nor look at any who went
with her. A girl walked beside her, holding the end of her haik, and the
young men of the village ran in front and behind, firing their rifles
and shouting. ‘Let us also salute the bride,’ urged one of my soldiers,
but el Kharaji restrained him, and the procession passed out of sight.”
Raisuli looked at me expectantly, and Badr ed Din was laughing whole-
heartedly. “She does not understand!” he teased. “Ullah, nor did Sidi
Mohamed, for he waited till the last sounds had died away and the bride
was, no doubt, in her new home! Then he gave the arranged signal, from
all sides his men closed in on the village. . . . It was empty except
for the women and children and the old men who could not make two teeth
meet. There was no sign of el Kherba, or of anybody else who could carry
a gun. Under the eyes of my soldiers all the fighting men of the village
had gone forth with their rifles, and with them rode the Kaid, in the
disguise of a bride! Ullah, the old fox had even taken his latest wife
with him, in the person of the maiden who held the end of her sister’s
haik! After that day it was unwise to talk to el Kharaji of weddings.”
Badr ed Din chuckled. “His daughters ran the risk of dying single, for
the word ‘bride’ was a curse in his mouth!”
Raisuli continued, “A second time I made peace with el Kherba, for I
thought a man of such resource would be useful in my councils. He wrote
to me from the mountains, where he lived as an outlaw, begging that if
he was to die, his head might be left on his body, and saying that, if
this were promised, he would come down to Tazrut to surrender. I
replied, ‘I have need of your head and your body together. Separate,
they are no use to me. Return in peace to your village, but, if you
break faith with me again, I will come at the head of a mehalla to
punish you.’
“After this there was a truce between us, and he paid the tribute
demanded, but unwillingly, making many excuses. At last he joined a
section of the Beni Gorfet who had risen against me, and for some time
he evaded my men. When the revolt was put down, he was captured, hiding
in a cave where his friends brought him food secretly, when they could
evade the eyes of my sentries. I had no wish for a blood feud with the
Sumata, so I delivered him for trial to a tribunal of Qadis who were
learned in the law. He was condemned to death, as was just, for he had
murdered and stolen, and broken faith, as well as rebelling against his
ruler. His brother also, who had aided him, was captured and should have
had the same fate, but all the women of their family came to me and
threw themselves on the ground, putting their foreheads in the dust,
wailing and weeping. They said, ‘These are the only two men left in our
house, for the others have all been killed in war. If these also die,
who will protect us?’ They kissed the edge of my robe and would not let
me go.
“At last I said to them, ‘It is not I who condemn them, but the law of
Islam,’ and they cried out, ‘My master the King may interpret the law
with mercy. Do not make our sons fatherless, and may Allah make you
father of many warriors.’ I answered, ‘Truly it is my right to modify
the law, and, in this case, I will show mercy and spare the lives of
your masters, but the hand of one shall be forfeit and the eyes of the
other.’
“This was carried out as far as the younger brother was concerned, for
with his own rifle he had shot two of the men who travelled with the
caravan, and this was proved against him; but a trick was played on el
Kherbi. It was told him that his eyes should be burned out with hot
metal, and he said, ‘It is the will of Allah.’ Hot discs were put upon
his eyelids and he made no sound. When it was finished and the smell of
burning flesh was in his nostrils, they said to him, ‘Your sight is
gone! Where your eyes were, there are now two pits.’ He could see
nothing, and the pain made him stupid. They put a handkerchief round his
head and left him in the prison. After some days I sent for him and
said, ‘Have you repented of the crimes which you committed not only
against me, but against Allah?’ and he said, ‘I have, for your
punishment is just.’ Then I told him, ‘If your repentance is sincere,
your sight will come back to you,’ and he was amazed and asked how this
could happen, and I answered, ‘I do not know how or when, but my word is
given that, if you speak truth about your repentance, you will see the
sun.’ He went out doubtfully, saying, ‘The truth of the Sherif is
known.’ In a few weeks his eyes were healed and all Sumata acknowledged
the miracle. Since then the tribe has been with me. But, in truth, only
the man’s eyelids had been burned!”