Position of Fez—Water supply—Breakfast at Grand Vizier’s—Hidden
treasure—Sultan’s garden—Laying down telephone—Royal stud—Dinner at
Kaïd Hadj Hamed’s—Surgery.
Some of the views one gets of the town from the neighbouring heights are
very pretty, and quite unlike any style of landscape I have seen before.
The plain at the extremity of which the city is built extends for many
miles in a south-west direction, and is almost a dead level, with an
average width of some six miles. It is watered by the Wad el Fas (River
of Fez), which falls into the Sebú about four miles below the town. Fez
itself, though placed completely in a hollow, is certainly a very
beautiful town when viewed from a short distance off; and apart from its
fine surroundings, the plentiful mixture of bright green foliage, which
peeps out from the otherwise glaring white of the houses, forms a vivid
and agreeable contrast. The ground it stands on is by no means level,
while close to it and all round, except towards the south-west, the land
is undulating and rises to a considerable height, with many admirable
and far more healthy sites on which to have built a town. The attraction
of having more building material close at hand, and also an unlimited
water supply, are the cause of the choice, this element, though in a
very undrinkable state, being obtainable in almost every street. The
river, which flows through part of the town, is led off in ducts in
every direction, all private houses of any pretension having it let in
to supply the fountains, &c., of which there is one in every patio. The
stream is a good deal used for working corn-mills, some of which, by the
noise one hears, seem to be grinding all night; the old circular stone,
with a hole in the middle, is still in vogue, and broken and disused
specimens are to be seen lying all about the town. The water is of a
dull slate colour, with a considerable deposit on being left to stand
for a short time, and is not without a large proportion of visible
animal life. Rich people have theirs brought in from a distance, but for
the poorer classes the ordinary supply must be a ready means of laying
the foundation of disease, and is none the more palatable from the fact
that into it flows, at the head of the stream, the Sultan’s private
aqueduct, in which the 300 or 400 fair denizens of the palace have
previously performed their ablutions.
The Moors of the present day seem to think Fez as near an approach to
Paradise as can be found on earth; this opinion, too, has been shared to
a certain extent by early English travellers, one of whom, in the
sixteenth century, gives us the following fantastic description of the
features of the town to which I have more prosaically alluded:—“Nature
and art have played the wantons, and have brought forth this city, the
fruit of their dalliance.... So doth the earth seem to dance in little
Hillocks and pretie vallies, diversifying the Soyle.” Of the river and
its subdivisions, too, he says, “He is divided into two armes, embracing
this lovely nymphe; and he finds meanes of secret intelligence with his
love ... which, still enjoying, he wooeth, and ever wooing
enjoyeth!”[35]
[Illustration: VIEW OF FEZ ENTERING FROM SOUTH WEST.]
The canals I have mentioned as permeating the town, while cooling the
air in summer, must make the place damp and unhealthy, and with the
narrow sunless streets and infinity of smells account for the pale,
unwholesome looks of the Fasi. Sad, _insouciant_, and wrapped in
melancholy and rags, as most of them are, they form a sorry contrast to
the bold, cheery inhabitants of the provinces. The soldiers and black
population, including slaves, are the only exceptions; but the former
pass a great portion of the year out in camp, and the latter are bound
to present a uniformly shining appearance, at all events as regards
their outer man.
It is difficult to explain why disease is not more rife here than it is,
as there is every facility both for propagating and engendering it,
while of medical aid there is next to none. Almost the only remedy used
by native physicians is bleeding, or rather cupping, which is considered
a panacea; while for wounds or fractures small slips of paper, with
verses of the Koran written on them, are bound over the part affected.
Of surgery and anatomy they are quite ignorant, and, in fact, such
science is forbidden by the Koran; while the idea of medicine is
distasteful, especially to the rich, who are always suspicious of
poisoning; so the few drugs known are seldom administered.
_Wednesday, 21st April 1880._
It is whispered that though some of the high Court officials are willing
enough to entertain us, either from motives of hospitality or for the
purpose of affording a treat to their womenkind, yet some are most
reluctant to show us any civility. Among the former are the Kaïd el
Meshwa (or the Mouchoir, as we have christened him—a by no means
inappropriate name, considering his father was a “washerwoman”) and the
cheery little Hájeb, or “Eyebrow,” while the others comprise the
Governor of Fez and the Grand Vizier. The latter functionary, however,
acting from pressure put upon him by the Sultan, invited us to his house
to breakfast, and there we repaired shortly after nine o’clock. The
house is prettily situated on sloping ground at the outskirts of the
town, and the entrance at which the Vizier’s secretary received us is at
the bottom of a beautiful garden, laid out in terraces up towards the
house. Walking up through here we passed our host’s harem, or rather
their abode, on our left hand, and mounting some steps came to an open
court paved with mosaics, on the other side of which was the entrance,
where the minister himself was standing to welcome us. “Marhaba bík!
marhaba bík!”[36] is a phrase one soon masters in this country; and our
host, addressing it to each of us, led us into the house. I do not know
whether the owner or his mansion claims the first description, but
leaving the better-looking to the last, I will begin with the Prime
Minister, Síd Muhammed ben Moktsar. He is the individual who refused at
first to call on His Excellency, and has only been in office a short
time. Connected by marriage with the Sultan, he gives himself
considerable airs, and is said to combine in a rare degree the
properties of fool and fanatic. He is a short and very stout man of
between thirty-five and forty, with a perpetual forced smile on his
face, and, sitting cross-legged on a sofa, with his mouth always wide
open, beside Sir John, reminded one irresistibly of a large toad.
However, commencing from very little, he is now second man in the
Empire, and in the few months he has been in office has amassed enough
money to spend, at all events, £10,000 or £15,000 on his beautiful
house. As his actual salary is _nil_, or almost nominal, this shows the
extent to which he has squeezed the unfortunate people whose affairs he
manages. The system is the same throughout,—none of the officials are
paid; and some of them, such as the Governor of Fez, are expected to
make payments to the Sultan of several thousand pounds per annum.
Besides what he has laid out on his house, the Grand Vizier has a
quantity of ready money, and he told Kaïd Maclean—of whom he professes
to be very fond, and whom he calls “his son”—how he had disposed of it.
“It is all in gold doubloons,” he said, “and I have got it locked in a
chest, and buried in one of my gardens at Mequinez; the slaves have
‘gone away’ (Anglicè, are dead or in prison for life) who buried it, and
no one but myself knows the place.” “Well, now,” said M., “I am your
‘son,’ so you may as well tell me where it is, and give me the key.”
“Ah!” said the Vizier, with a leer of infinite cunning, “I went for a
long ride lately alone, took the key with me, and threw it into the
Sebú.” It seems very strange that men in a position like his, and to a
certain extent educated, should do such things; but as investments are
unknown, and it is illegal for a Moor to set up a bank, it is not so
much to be wondered at. The amount of treasure so deposited in gardens,
walls, &c., is said to be incredible; a will is very rarely made, as
there is no security for its being carried out, and a man buries all he
has for safety’s sake, intending, probably, on his death-bed to acquaint
his friends with its whereabouts; but either he dies a violent death, or
else, hoping always that an illness may not be his last, he hesitates to
unburthen his mind in case he may recover and then be murdered for his
money. Thus the secret dies with him, and he departs elsewhere to
account, among other irregularities, for the talent he has so
successfully wrapped up.
On another occasion this intelligent statesman, feeling unwell, sent for
Kaïd Maclean, who hurried down to him, and finding his liver was
affected, went home for a box of blue pills. Returning with them himself
to the Vizier, he gave him a couple. The patient, taking them in one
hand, drew M. towards him with the other, and, forcing the pills into
his mouth, obliged him to swallow them. “Now,” he said, with an air of
triumph, “I will take two myself in a little time;” this he accordingly
did, and derived considerable benefit. On being expostulated with
afterwards on his unworthy suspicion, he tried to excuse himself,
saying, “Well, you see, I thought some of the servants might have
tampered with the box and poisoned the medicine.” “In which case, don’t
you see, you would have poisoned _me_?” suggested his benefactor. “Ah,
God is great!” was the reply, and the matter dropped.
This worthy’s house is very perfect in its way, and a good specimen of
modern Moorish architecture. The entrance hall and all the rooms are
paved with fine mosaics, the patio and some of the terraces in the same
style, but of coarser material. Two or three large sofas fill up the
front of the hall, while the back part, which is raised a little, is
covered with cushions and rugs. From this open off two rooms (in one of
which we had breakfast), both in the same style, with arched ceilings of
richly coloured wood and stucco. Up the stairs, which are very steep and
narrow, as in all Moorish houses, are a variety of rooms of all
sizes—bath-rooms, bed-rooms, and little bijou sort of apartments, highly
ornamented, like the courts of the Alhambra, but the gold-work fresh and
bright, and the colours of every imaginable hue. As the house stands
considerably above the level of the town, and there are no neighbours to
overlook it, it is provided with numerous windows—an unusual innovation
among these privacy-loving people. Some had glass in them, others none,
and from them all there was a magnificent view of the town, with its
dark background of lofty hills; while from the garden below there came
the perfume of roses and orange blossoms, which seem here to be in
perpetual bloom.
The Vizier had prepared a table for us, with chairs, knives and forks;
the latter implements were unpacked in our presence from a large
plate-chest specially procured from Paris for this and similar occasions
hereafter, and their use was explained by our servants to the slaves of
our host, who had never seen anything of the sort before. On these
occasions we are always requested to bring with us our own Moorish
attendants, who are accustomed to our outlandish manner of feeding, and
can minister to our wants more readily than the slaves of the Faithful.
In this instance we had the worthy Boomgheis and Selám Hajút, Sir John’s
butler, to wait on us—a duty which commends itself to them, as, after we
finish, the _débris du festin_, and more should they require it, fall to
their share.
The table was covered with a snow-white cloth, on which were china
dishes containing every imaginable and unimaginable kind of sweetmeat
and confectionery, more like the preparations for a marriage-feast than
an ordinary breakfast. We surveyed these edibles not without some
anxiety; it was to be our first experience of a real Moorish “feed,” and
as we had accidentally heard that the comestibles had been prepared and
on the table for the last three weeks, for the inspection of the
minister’s friends, we were a little uneasy as to the effect that they
might have upon us after so long keeping. The number and variety of hot
dishes which came in presently was astonishing, and our own servants
seem to have been put up to insisting on our trying them all. Nothing,
however, was very nasty, though everything was unlike anything we had
ever seen before, and some of the sauces were oleaginous to the last
degree. The last of the solid courses was a huge dish of _kuskussú_,[37]
which, however, we hailed with delight, as its arrival usually betokens
the beginning of the end. In the matter of freedom of action, we
unbelievers scored considerably off His Excellency, who was given a
place of honour in the hall, and fed at a small table with our host, Síd
Búbakr, and the Sultan’s treasurer, which latter gentleman I had
remarked taking notes in pencil of the Bashador’s conversation while
breakfast was preparing. His companions, of course, disdained the use of
knives and forks, and argued with Sir John in favour of their plan of
eating with their fingers. To keep him in countenance, however, they
were seated on chairs and sofas, which they managed to do pretty
comfortably, though usually with one leg furtively tucked up on the seat
beneath them. Their natural cross-legged position is by no means
ungraceful, though in the case of the fat Vizier it brought his great
toe, which he caressed continually as he sat toad-like on the sofa, into
closer proximity with his food than was pleasing to a European eye.
The number of dishes of kuskussú we saw put before the servants outside
and returning empty, to say nothing of the substantial fragments from
our table, was simply incredible; but eating, like all other enjoyments
in this country, is carried to excess, and the Prophet never showed a
greater knowledge of his followers than when he laid an embargo on
alcohol.
The feast over and a visit paid to the stables, where there was nothing
much worth seeing, Haynes and I rode to the palace to see about fixing
the telephone, &c., with Síd Búbakr as guide and Mr. Náhum as
interpreter. We kept outside the town till we arrived near the palace at
the large enclosure where the reception of last Monday had taken place.
On the way there I had some conversation with Síd Búbakr through the
medium of the interpreter, and found that his travels in Europe had
extended only to Gibraltar and Algeçiraz; he had seen the bull fights at
the latter place, and thought them “bad and cruel.” I asked about the
slave-market here, which I am anxious to see. It seems they are not sold
at the public “Sôk” or market, which is held on Mondays and Thursdays,
but at a different place altogether, any evening in the week, as
occasion demands. When we arrived at the entrance into the palace
grounds the guards there made us dismount, and after some delay the
Chief of the Household, Síd Hamed ben Músa, came out and took us into an
inner courtyard. Here he thought would be a good place for laying down
the telephone; but as we were not of the same opinion, and wanted to
have it in the garden next the palace, he said he would go, and “if the
Sultan were awake,” ask leave for us to go in. After keeping us waiting
a very long time,—which we heard he did through being annoyed at our
determination to invade the sacred precincts,—he returned with the
Sultan’s permission, and the boxes containing the telephone and
heliographs carried on the backs of slaves. The inner gate was then
opened, and, going across a courtyard and through another enormous door,
we found ourselves in His Majesty’s garden. To our right and left was a
broad walk paved in mosaic; a high arched colonnade on the left extended
along this walk for about forty yards, and the continuation of this
building was the palace, raised a few steps above the walk, and having a
more private and cared-for-looking garden in front of it. The grove or
garden we were in was so thick with orange-trees and shrubs, that one
could get no view of the palace, though we were not many yards off. The
roof only—a green tiled structure like those on the mosques—was visible,
the building itself, as far as I could judge, not being very large,
though the interior, where no Christian has ever set foot, is said to be
of exquisite workmanship. The orange-grove was intersected by straight
grass walks at right angles to each other, and from the end to half-way
along one of these we decided to lay down the telephone. The kaïd of the
Freigíahs (chief of the tent-pitchers) having been summoned, we were
told we “only had to command and our slaves would obey;” so we
instructed him to pitch a tent at one end of the walk, and another
half-way down, so as to keep the ends of the telephone under cover,
which order was speedily executed. It took a long time putting the
instrument up, and when completed neither of the bells would work, and
the voice sounded dim and indistinct. As I knew nothing about it, and my
colleague confessed himself at fault, we decided to leave it for to-day,
and to-morrow to bring to bear on it the scientific attainments of the
“photographer.” A little before we left, the attendants implored us not
to delay, as the “ladies were coming out.” Feeling sure the ladies could
not wish to hurry us, we completed our work, but were unfortunately not
favoured with a glimpse of any of them.
The following morning I returned to the palace with Lawless. While he
was busy with the telephone I occupied myself in cutting out a circular
piece of thin black paper with which to cover the glass of the
heliograph for use at short distances, when the extreme brilliancy of
the flash renders it impossible to read the signals. I found my plan
answer very well, the disk I left in the centre of the glass being about
the size of a crown-piece. We took a look at His Majesty’s horses while
we were there, about thirty of them all picketed in one of the grass
walks. They looked a pretty strong and serviceable lot, but we were told
on enquiry the “best were kept elsewhere.” As I did not recognise the
one the Sultan rode on Monday, this may be true. Most of them seem to
have a touch of the dray in their composition, which I fancy is
accounted for by George III. having sent a present of some stallions of
that breed to the then Emperor of Marocco.
[Illustration: KAID OF THE “FREIGÍAHS” & SOLDIERS IN PALACE GARDEN.]
Some slaves are at work all day in building a high wall round the palace
garden. The material is mud and gravel, which they beat down between
parallel boards into a mass called “_tapia_,” which soon hardens into a
substance like concrete. They sing a wild monotonous air the while,
swinging their rammers or mallets in time to the music, and at the last
word of the couplet bring them all down together. There is consequently
a good deal more singing than hammering, but unless allowed their own
way I am told they cannot work at all. I turned the flash of the
heliograph full among them, which made them lie down and yell with
terror; so, being afraid they might roll off the top of the wall in
their fright, I did not repeat the experiment.
In the afternoon Kaïd Maclean rode with some of us to the house of Kaïd
Hadj Hamed, to whom we had long promised a visit. He commands a regiment
here, and is much more intelligent and civilised than his peers. On a
late occasion he accompanied Kaïd Maclean to Gibraltar, and dined at our
mess, where, with the exception of being unable to speak, he comported
himself like anybody else, using his knife and fork with much ease and
dexterity. These implements, however, do not seem to have sufficiently
commended themselves to him to induce him to adopt their use in his own
house, and the ample dinner he provided for us had to be discussed with
our fingers. Hadj Hamed received us at the door of his house, and took
us through a passage to the patio in the centre, where a number of his
friends were assembled. In a kind of chambered recess off it, cushions
were spread for us, and behind us were a lot of mattresses piled up and
covered with very handsome stuffs of native manufacture. The
entertainment began, as usual, with tea, after which the large circular
table, like a sieve, appeared, and was placed in our midst as we
squatted on the floor. Some very good soup made its appearance first,—in
fact, all the courses were edible, and some really good; the soup we
discussed in small basins with much ease; but roast mutton, which
followed, without the aid of knives and forks, was more difficult.
Chickens were easily managed, as with two people pulling at a leg or
wing in opposite directions the question settled itself. Our host,
however, when he saw us in difficulties, would neatly tear off a few
shreds of meat from the joint, and present them to us. The repast,
though unenlivened by the cup that cheers, was rather a festive one; a
band played and sang without ceasing in the patio, and our host’s
endeavours to make himself agreeable were quite successful. Dinner over,
a brass kettle and basin were brought in, and the very necessary
ablutions took place; after which a number of silver bottles of rose
water appeared, the contents of which were liberally applied by Hadj
Hamed over our heads, down our backs, and everywhere about us. Lastly,
the incense-burner was brought, with which, after incensing us all
round, he smoked all our hats in turn, and Maclean’s turban. So ended
Hadj Hamed’s feast, during the whole of which a gallery of veiled ladies
looked down upon us, one or two, presumably the best-looking,
occasionally discovering their charms. Our host has only lately been
married—on Saturday last—and a continual round of feasting has been
going on ever since; but the occasion of our honouring him has, so he
says, been the “consummation of his marriage.” Our servants had great
feastings while we were at dinner, and much regret was expressed by our
host that the English servants were not of the number; he begged, in
fact, to be allowed to send for them. Considering, however, the close
propinquity of Hadj Hamed’s numerous harem, and the possibility of its
not being regarded by the two _valets de chambre_ in the same sacred
light with which we have brought ourselves to view these establishments,
we thought it better not to lead into such temptation those for whose
morals we should be held responsible. We took a short ride round on our
way home, but the amount of kuskussú our grooms had consumed made it a
matter of expediency to send them straight home to digest.
The number of sick and maimed brought to our Esculapius for treatment
seems to increase daily. Doubtless many more would like to come, and
probably the preference is given to the one who can afford the highest
tip to the soldier on duty at the gate. The medico’s tent, though well
adapted for consulting patients, is pitched a little too near the Kiosk
where we feed to admit of much practical surgery being carried on in
secret, and to-day, immediately after breakfast, the moans of a poor
miserable-looking creature, who was being operated on for tumour in the
neck, attracted my attention. The doctor’s Moorish servant, “Máho,” was
holding the lad’s head, the operating theatre being the garden walk, and
the doctor was wiping his instrument on a geranium leaf! Notwithstanding
this necessarily rough-and-ready system, the amount of relief afforded
to the applicants is great. The doctor did not, naturally, anticipate
the numbers who would come for help, so the instruments he has with him
are merely those for field surgery, while the supply of medicine at his
disposal is wholly unequal to the demand; the latter, moreover, has to
be economised in case of dysentery, cholera, or other epidemic attacking
the Mission. Eye diseases are the commonest form of ailment which are
brought for treatment, and would afford rare practice for an oculist.
Walking in the town, the number of people with only one eye that one
sees is incredible; even in little children it seems as common as with
adults, the only people with usually the full complement being the
women. Of this style of affliction, smallpox, ophthalmia, &c., are the
chief causes.[38]