THE EMPIRE OF MOROCCO.
It is difficult, when looking at the map of Africa, to realize that the
Straits of Gibraltar are all that separate it from Europe, a continent
differing widely from it in every respect.
True, standing upon the northern shore, we find ourselves in a country
which will recall to our minds some of the characteristics of sunny
Spain. A short journey of three or four hours farther south will
transport us, however, into a section where everything is new and
strange.
Pleasant as we have found it to catch glimpses of Africa in our reading,
interesting as we have found it to trace the footprints of travelers, we
shall now find ourselves enjoying nearer and clearer views of the
continent, as we approach it from the coast of Europe.
We will enter the continent from the northwestern extremity, the section
known as the Empire of Morocco, called by the Arabs, "the far west."
Tangier, the small seaport at which our little steamer anchors, is
situated on a small bay, or inlet, of the Straits of Gibraltar, the
division line old Father Ocean has marked between Africa and Europe, and
lies thirty-eight miles southwest of the town of Gibraltar.
It is with mingled feelings of awe, curiosity, and interest that we
catch our first glimpses of Africa from the bridge of the little steamer
which has carried us safely to within sight of shore.
The white walls of Tangier can be distinctly seen, and numerous boats
are fast approaching the steamer in quest of passengers. Just behind the
boats, following in their wake, a crowd of Arabs, scantily clad in
tattered garments, come wading through the water, halfway to their
waists.
With outstretched arms, and wild, fierce cries and gestures, they draw
nearer and nearer, their actions strikingly suggestive of maniacs bent
upon wanton mischief or pirates in search of plunder.
It is with no little fear that we enter one of the boats now at the
steamer's side; but as we approach to within a short distance from the
shore our fear becomes intensified, for the whole swarm of what we can
scarcely recognize as human beings, surround the boat.
They throw themselves upon us, lay hands upon us, and, with frantic
gestures and vociferous cries in Arabic and Spanish, endeavor to gain
our attention. It is with a feeling of genuine relief that we finally
comprehend the meaning of the strange scene, and find that all this
hubbub is to give us the information that the tide is low, that it will
be impossible for the boat to approach any nearer to the shore, and that
we must be carried the remaining distance upon the shoulders of these
uncouth Arabs.
It is not a pleasant mode of reaching land again, but we must submit to
the ordeal. It is not so unpleasant for the ladies, for they are safely
carried to shore in chairs; but each gentleman considers himself very
fortunate when he finally reaches _terra firma_ without having dipped
the soles of his feet in the water during this trip to shore, astride
his queer two-footed steed.
Once safely landed, however, we begin to look about us. The people
passing in the street seem to be enveloped in a long white, woolen
garment or cloak. This has a large hood, which is generally brought
straight up over the head.
This hooded populace passes us, with grave faces, slowly, silently, as
if seeking to escape notice. Others may be found crouching along the
walls of the buildings, or seated at the corners of the streets, with
eyes as fixed and faces as immovable as though in a trance.
All expression of interest in the surroundings or in the affairs of the
world seems to have faded from the faces of the people. They appear to
be lost in meditation or sunk in day dreams, impassive to all that is
going on around them.
Moving through the crowd, however, we become conscious, upon nearer
view, that there is not so much uniformity as we had at first supposed.
We perceive faces of all hues,--black, white, yellow, and even bronze.
As the long, silent procession passes, we perceive old men bent and worn
with age, figures shriveled and dried like Egyptian mummies, women with
face and body wrapped and concealed in a mass of rags, and children with
nothing childlike in face or person unless it be their long tresses.
Here are people whose heads are ornamented with long tufts of wooly
hair, others with heads glistening like polished ivory or metal, so
closely have they been shorn of their locks.
The town of Tangier is a curious sight, with its labyrinth of narrow
streets; so narrow as to be scarcely more than corridors.
Rows of white houses line these streets and present an odd appearance to
the looker-on. They are usually without windows, and the narrow doorways
are scarcely wide enough for a man to enter by them. They give one the
impression that they belong to a prison, or possibly a house of refuge
or concealment.
Occasionally a door, or even a window, is seen with some Moorish
decoration. Again a band of red may be found at the foot of a wall, or a
hand may be discerned painted in black upon the doorway. Such marks are
superstitiously regarded as charms to keep away evil influences.
The air in the streets is very offensive. Most thoroughfares are
littered with heaps of decaying vegetables, old rags, bones, feathers,
and other substances, with an occasional dead dog or cat lying about.
These render the air most disagreeable and unwholesome. Added to this
are the mingled odors of garlic, burnt aloes, benzoin, fish, and the
smoke of various substances that may be burning. Here and there groups
of Arab boys may be seen playing at their various games; or they may be
heard chanting, in their shrill, nasal tones, verses from the Koran,
which is their only schoolbook.
The scene is a varied one. Here is a wretched beggar crouching in the
dust in the hope of awakening pity in the heart of the passer-by; there
a Moor mounted upon a mule. Then presently an overloaded donkey comes in
sight, a half-clothed Arab trotting by his side and showering heavy
blows upon him in the vain attempt to urge him on to greater speed; now
a half-starved dog or vagrant cat skulks by, as if in terror at the
sight of man.
Tangier has one principal square. It is a small rectangular place with
one long street running through it. This street ascends from the sea
landing through the entire length of the town. Numerous shops are
scattered about the square, which are of so simple a character that
those of the humblest village in Europe would appear quite grand in
comparison.
At one side of the square is a fountain, where at any hour in the day
may be found knots of Arabs or groups of negroes, who have come to get
water. On the other side of the street, eight or ten women, closely
veiled, remain seated on the ground from early dawn till close of day,
silently offering for sale the loaves of bread arranged before them.
[Illustration: TANGIER.]
The square is the business center of Tangier. Grouped about it are found
the homes of the representatives of foreign lands. Their houses are very
simple, yet, contrasted with the common dingy houses of the town, they
appear quite like palaces.
The aspect of business life in this little square is like that of any
village center, with its single grocery store, tobacco shop, and
unpretentious cafe. The latter is merely a humble little room, upon the
walls of which various printed notices of the current topics of the day
are posted.
A billiard table is one of its features, and assembled round it, or
lounging about the room, is usually a motley crowd. Rich Moors idle away
the hours, Jewish traders discuss their business transactions,
half-clothed vagabonds look on with listless expression, Arab porters
await the arrival of the steamers, employees of the foreign
representatives rest during the noon hour, while various strangers, some
just landed, and numerous beggars, add variety to the scene, which is as
interesting as it is unique.
The Moorish shops here, as well as those of Cairo in Egypt, differ much
from those of the countries in Europe. Each is built like an alcove
about a foot above the level of the sidewalk. In front is an opening at
which the customer stands as if before a window. The merchant, with his
goods spread out before him, sits cross-legged in his narrow shop, like
a statue in a niche. We are led to wonder, as we watch him, if he may
not be merely of wood or stone, so immovable is he; and we almost expect
to find some machinery that may set him in motion.
These merchants seem to pass hours and even days wrapped in reverie, or
mechanically touching a chaplet of beads, as they utter the words of the
Koran.
A curious feature of Tangier and other cities of Morocco may often be
witnessed by night. Upon the stillness of a slumbering city breaks a
sound as of a distant bombardment. This soon brings to the doors and
windows a crowd of people, who are at first startled, but who quickly
become expectant of what is to follow.
The sound draws nearer and nearer; a surging crowd appears surrounding
something shaped like a casket upon end. This is borne upon the back of
a horse or camel. The flare of innumerable torches lights up the novel
scene. As the procession advances slowly, a droning, plaintive sound of
music is heard, accompanying a dismal, nasal chant. Shrill cries, the
barking of dogs, and the sound of guns but add to the general confusion.
The curiosity of a stranger makes him keen to know the meaning of this
strange scene. The explanation is simple. It is but the wedding
procession of a young bride as she is being conducted to the house of
her bridegroom; and the upright coffer, or casket, is but the conveyance
in which she is being carried to her future home.
Many of the inhabitants use no wine, since they are followers of the
Prophet Mohammed, and their faith forbids its use. In some homes this
custom is not so rigidly enforced, and at the time of feasts wine is
used quite freely.
The master of a Moorish house usually meets his guests in a square
courtyard, found in the center of his mansion. Two large chambers open
out from this, which have no windows, but are entered through a large,
arched doorway closed by a portiere or a heavy, massive curtain.
The outside walls are generally of dazzling white, the arches of the
doorway are not bare of ornament, and the pavement is of beautiful
mosaic work.
At intervals in the inner walls are small niches for the slippers which
custom demands shall be used by all who enter a Moorish house. The tiles
of the floor are often covered with beautiful Moorish rugs and carpets.
On each side of the doorway are large chandeliers. These are brilliant
with numerous lighted candles of various colorings. On the tables are
beautiful mirrors, and masses of brilliant flowers, to add enchantment
to the scene.
A stranger, upon entering one of these houses for the first time, might
fancy himself looking at the interior decoration of a theatre, the
ornamentation of a church, the gilded trimmings of a ballroom, or the
luxuriance of a regal palace.
The grace and elegance of the appointments, the brilliant lights and
coloring, add novelty and enchantment to a scene that might have been
taken from the "Arabian Nights."
Leaving Tangier, we will proceed to Fez, the great metropolis of
Morocco. If we wish to gain any definite knowledge of this important
city of the Sultan's dominions we must by no means fail to visit it.
Fez was founded more than eight hundred years before Christ. During the
Middle Ages it was considered one of the largest, handsomest, and most
important of the Mohammedan cities. At that time it was the capital of
Morocco, and was said to have contained ninety thousand dwellings,
nearly seven hundred mosques, besides magnificent public buildings, fine
schools, and scientific institutions.
About the middle of the sixteenth century the court was removed to
Morocco, and Fez gradually exerted less and less influence. It is still,
however, a city of importance and the capital of the northern province
of the empire of Morocco.
Fez has rather a peculiar situation. It is in a tunnel-shaped valley,
surrounded by hills. The higher portions of the valley are covered with
a growth of trees. Orange groves and orchards are not uncommon features.
The city is divided into Old and New Fez by one of the branches of the
Sebu, or "river of pearls."
Fez is regarded as the _Holy City_ by the western Arabs, on account of
the many mosques and relics it contains. It is said still to contain one
hundred mosques. The most important of these contains the monument of
its builder, Sultan Muley Edris. It is sought by criminals as a place of
refuge, when they are in danger of arrest. So strong is the feeling for
the sanctity of the place, that no refugee is ever molested while under
its roof.
The old palace of the Sultan, which still stands, is fast falling into
decay since the removal of the court to Morocco.
The external aspect of Fez does not differ materially from other
Mohammedan towns. There are the various baths and bazaars with which
the eye becomes familiarized; the numerous caravansaries, or inns, for
the accommodation of the many caravans that assemble here on their way
to and fro across the desert. These inns are large square buildings with
open courtyards in the middle.
The multitude of hotels and shops on all sides is the only feature to
remind the stranger of European cities. Fez still carries on quite a
considerable trade by means of caravans, which travel into the adjoining
countries on the south and east, as far as Timbuctoo.
Both Old and New Fez are surrounded by old brick walls and great towers
of limestone. These are fast crumbling to pieces from exposure to the
elements.
Outside of the gates of the city and for a good distance into the
surrounding country may be seen traces of the foundation of a city.
Everything points to its ruin by war and conflagration; for here are
seen monuments, ruined tombs, and arches of aqueducts, remnants of the
past.
As we enter the city a constantly increasing crowd is seen. Men stop to
look at us with an air of astonishment or curiosity; women turn aside
their faces, and try to hide themselves from our gaze; the very children
flee from us in dismay, uttering cries of fear in their flight.
On either hand we behold fountains richly ornamented in mosaic work, or
doorways beautiful with arabesque decorations, characteristic of the
Arabian taste, consisting of a fanciful combination of all kinds of
figures of men and animals, either real or imaginary.
Here and there we behold arcades and remnants of fine Arabic
architecture, all showing the destroying touch of Father Time. At
intervals we plunge into dark covered passage ways and emerge into the
light only to enter again into shadow. The principal streets, usually
thronged, are only about seven feet wide. On either hand are open
bazaars filled with animated buyers.
[Illustration: A WATER CARRIER AT FEZ.]
The courts of the various inns are piled high with bales of merchandise,
and the entrances of the mosques present a long perspective of white
arcades and the prostrate figures of the worshipers engaged in prayer.
We find the air impregnated with the varied and penetrating odor of
aloes and aromatic perfumes, or with the oppressive smell of incense,
till it seems to us as if we were within the walls of some mammoth drug
store. On every side dirt and squalor abound, and clouds of dust fill
the air, so that the eyes, nose, and the lungs even, are uncomfortably
affected.
The terraces on the house tops are a pleasant sight in the cool of the
day. In Fez, as in other cities of the empire, these terraces are
reserved for the women, and are considered rather a necessary feature of
the harem, or women's apartments.
They are built high above the ground, many of them being surrounded by a
wall higher than a man's head. This is pierced with loopholes, since it
would be impossible to look over the top of it.
The imperial palace is a very lofty edifice built upon an eminence. The
view from the top of it discloses thousands of white terraces. From the
palace there is also a fine view of the hills encircling the city and of
the mountains towering in the distance.
It is interesting to catch a glimpse of the Moorish women upon the
terraced house tops, many of which have parapets, or walls, breast high,
to surround them. Most of the women are richly dressed, and may be seen
strolling backwards and forwards, or seated upon the parapets. Some of
the younger ones amuse themselves by leaping like children from one
terrace to another; they play at hide and seek, or laughingly splash
water in one another's faces, as merry as children. Others appear older
and more sedate, and mingling with them may be seen groups of children
of eight or ten years of age.
The greater part of these Moorish women wear the hair flowing loosely
over the shoulders. A large red or green handkerchief is bound around
the head to keep the hair in place.
The dress most commonly seen is a loosely flowing robe of varied and
brilliant coloring. It has very large flowing sleeves, and is fastened
about the waist by a blue or red sash. A jacket, open at the chest,
large, full trousers, yellow slippers, and heavy silver anklets complete
this curious yet attractive costume. All are arrayed in oriental
costumes of the most vivid coloring.
Many of the Moorish women are considered very beautiful, with their
almond-shaped eyes veiled by long lashes, a slightly curved nose, and
small, rounded mouth; but to our eyes their faces lack animation. The
eyes are heavy and sleepy looking, and the rouge, powder, and various
cosmetics which they employ when making their toilet render them hideous
rather than beautiful in the eyes of practical Americans.
Living as they do in the closest seclusion, with no social nor
educational advantages, we cannot wonder that their minds are
undeveloped and inactive, and that life at best in the Moorish
household, is, for its women, monotonous and dull.
Leaving the city of Fez in the company of a caravan, we reach the
capital of Morocco after several days and nights of travel and of
camping out.
The city of Morocco stands on a plain and is surrounded by walls six
miles in circumference, with square towers one hundred and fifty feet
apart rising from them. These walls are built of a kind of cement made
from finely powdered lime and earth. Eleven gates, or entrances, pierce
these walls, and crowds of people are coming and going constantly
through them during the day.
Morocco cannot be said to be a very brilliant capital. The streets are
narrow and dark, and a stranger would not care to wander through them at
night. The houses, like those in other parts of the empire, are mostly
of one story, with flat roofs. The interior is more attractive than the
exterior. The apartments are usually built around a court; within this
court a fountain or a statue forms the center of attraction.
The apartments themselves are furnished elaborately, and would seem
almost elegant in their appointments, were they fresher and less
dilapidated. In many of the houses are rich carvings of a style and
finish of earlier and more prosperous times.
Just outside the city walls is the emperor's palace. The grounds
surrounding it are very extensive and are kept in excellent order.
Although the gardens can in no way be compared with the royal gardens in
Europe, yet they do not lack beauty. They cannot be considered as open
to the public, yet travelers are admitted to certain parts of them, and
Europeans receive marked attention from the officials.
After the heat and noise, to say nothing of the disagreeable odors of
the city, it is a relief to get outside the walls and enjoy the beauty
and sweetness of the royal gardens. Here in the cool and quiet is the
best place from which to view the royal family, the various officers of
state, and such distinguished guests as may be in attendance on the
court.
[Illustration: DINNER TIME IN MOROCCO.]
The palace of the emperor is far from imposing; there is, in fact,
nothing remarkable about it. Some of our hotels present a more elegant
and imposing appearance.
The population of Morocco is, as we might suppose, a mixed one. People
of all colors, the educated and the ignorant of all classes mingle
together. Here, in fact, are all sorts and conditions of men.
Mekinez is the summer residence of the Sultan. It has a fine situation
in the midst of olive plantations, about forty miles west of Fez, to
which broad streets, lined with beautiful shade trees, present a very
pleasing contrast. It is surrounded by a triple row of notched or
crenated walls, and the approach to the city in the full light of midday
is most beautiful, with the thousands of white terraces standing out in
bold relief from the deep blue sky.
Not a column of smoke can we perceive ascending from any of the
multitude of houses; not a person is visible either upon the terraces or
before the walks; not a sound is to be heard.
We might believe we were in an enchanted city where some "sleeping
beauty" lay waiting for the hundred years to expire. We stand in
silence, as if spellbound by the grandeur of some wondrous painting.
There is a saying, among the natives, that Mekinez can justly lay claim
to having the most beautiful women in the empire of Morocco, the most
ornamental gardens in Africa, and the finest imperial in the world.
Directly west of the city of Morocco and farther south than Mekinez lies
Mogadore, the most important seaport of Morocco upon the Atlantic coast.
The inhabitants, who take great pride in their town, give it a name
signifying square. It is, however, somewhat triangular in shape.
The town is quite modern in its construction. It is built upon a sandy
beach; which, fortunately, has a rocky foundation. The streets are
somewhat narrow, but they are straight and well laid out. The houses are
arranged with much regularity and precision on either side.
The town is divided into two parts. One section contains the citadel,
the public buildings, governor's palace, and the residences of the
consuls and merchants who represent the several countries of Europe. The
other section of the town is occupied by the Jews and Moors. The Moors
have their own special quarter, called _villah_, which the police close
at night.
The walls of the town are not especially high nor strong. They are,
however, of sufficient height and strength to serve as a defense against
the attacks of the savage mountain tribes and the Arabs of the plains.
The harbor of Mogadore is formed by a bay, which is closed by an island
of the same name situated about two miles from the mainland. The harbor
contains some slight fortifications and a mosque--all situated upon this
island.
It has been estimated that the town of Mogadore has a population
numbering between thirteen and fifteen thousand people. About four
thousand of these are Jews, and there are possibly one thousand
Christians.
If we approach the town from the interior it presents a most curious
aspect, surrounded as it is by immense batteries in the form of
pyramids. Each of these is constructed in such a way as to serve as a
defense to the approaches to the city. An aqueduct, which is filled from
a small river, furnishes the water supply for the inhabitants.
The climate of the town is very healthy. There are no lowlands nor
marshes to breed malarial fevers. Rain seldom falls, but the dryness of
the air is tempered by the Atlas mountain chain on the one side, and the
sea on the other. The former serves to keep off the hot land breezes,
while the latter lends its refreshing breezes to give coolness and
moisture to the atmosphere.
The suburbs of Mogadore consist mainly of desolate waste land. At
intervals gardens with a few vegetables and flowers may be seen. These
gardens are always cultivated in the very midst of the sand at no little
outlay of time and strength. They furnish striking evidence of man's
ingenuity to make the most of his resources, even in so sterile a land.
At one side of the town are two cemeteries; one for Christians, the
other for natives. That for Christians is desolate in the extreme. Not a
sod, nor even the most humble flower is to be seen; not a tree shades
the tombs. The mournful winds of Old Ocean sweep over its expanse, and
it seems indeed forsaken; but, dreary as it is, the Moorish cemetery is
even more unattractive.