RESIDENCE AT MARÁKESH AND RETURN TO TANGIER. 1846.
_April 9._ Twenty-five guards were sent by the Sultan last night to
be distributed around the garden and walls of the palace, so we are
well taken care of. The chief of the guard wanted to lock my door
on the outside: I must indeed be very precious to be considered
worthy of such care; and, like a strange bird of value, am well
fed and closely caged. I hear also that one hundred cavalry patrol
the streets near our dwelling every night. To-day we are as state
prisoners and must take our rest _malgré nous_, I am not to see the
Sultan or his ministers, I understand, according to the usual form,
till I have had at least three days’ rest: this is tiresome, for
I should best be pleased by an immediate audience and the prompt
conclusion of all I have to say or settle.
The garden that surrounds our house, and in which our horses are
picketed, is a wilderness; full of orange, olive, walnut, palm,
plum and pear-trees, with vines, pomegranates and rose-trees in
full flower. A harvest of beautiful rose blossoms is gathered every
morning for making attar of roses. From our terrace on the house top
little is to be seen but low ruins with gardens, and here and there a
tall mosque, whilst within a few hundred yards of our palace towers
the Kutubía with its gilded ball on the top. This ancient mosque
is still in good preservation, and is used as a place of worship,
so there is no hope of our seeing the interior. The tower does not
appear so high as that of Hassan at Rabát, nor indeed so symmetrical
or ornamented, nevertheless it is a beautiful remnant of Moorish
architecture, and proudly rears its lofty head above the miserable
dwellings of the modern Moor.
_April 10._ The Uzir has sent for my interpreter this morning. I
primed David, and told him to mention my wishes to come to business
and have an audience without delay.
A curious incident took place during David’s visit to the Uzir. I
sent with him my soldier Abd-el-Kerim and a servant, Hadj Abd Selam,
who is a Sheríf and the grandson of the patron saint of Tangier,
Sid Mohammed-el-Hadj. The Uzir, on hearing who the latter was, went
forward and kissed the hem of his garment, asking for his blessing;
yet this holy man serves me in the double capacity of housemaid
and valet.
Whilst writing this, the Sheríf and my servant Kaddor have come to
tell me they have just seen the Sultan returning from the mosque. When
His Majesty approached they prostrated themselves on the ground. The
Sultan reined in his horse and sent an usher to ask who they were
and from whence they came. They replied, ‘We are servants of the
Roman’ (meaning me). His Majesty sent them a civil message and
rode on. We are living indeed in a country where there is a strange
mixture of patriarchal and tyrannical government.
_April 11._ Rode out at three o’clock, accompanied by the
Lieutenant-Governor, the Kaid of the town-guards, and a dozen of
foot-soldiers, also some of my own escort. I requested to be shown
round the outside of the town. After riding through dilapidated
streets, in which there were no signs of present or past opulence
either in the buildings or in anything else (Ben Yáhia calls this
town the ‘Mother of Villages,’ meaning that it is composed of
poor buildings), we sallied out of one of the gates of the town and
commenced the circuit.
On our left were several picturesque tombs: here the great saint,
Sid Bel-Abbas, is interred, also many of the Sultans; amongst others,
Mulai Yazid, whose mother was an Irishwoman.
It is said that formerly the Moors erected busts or effigies over
the tombs of the Sultans in this city, typical of their good or bad
qualities. Thus the liberal Sultan was depicted with a hand extended;
the sordid one with his hand closed; the warrior with a sword. Mulai
Yazid, being both a warrior and liberal, was represented with one
hand open and a sword in the other.
Mulai Soliman, in a fit of fanaticism, destroyed all these effigies as
being impious and against the interpretation of the law of the Prophet
Mohammed, and ordered inscriptions to be written in their places.
As we passed near this spot a negro saint, or holy maniac, brandished
a club at us. But the Lieutenant-Governor, beckoning him to his
side, kissed his garment, and the saint, patting his Excellency
on the back, satisfied his diseased brain by pointing his stick,
as a gun, at our cursed Nazareneships. The Lieutenant-Governor was
not communicative and seemed to dislike the evening’s jaunt; so,
I suppose, he accompanied me _malgré lui_. He rode the whole way
muttering his prayers, and every now and then, holding his hand in
the manner that is called ‘fatha’ towards some distant saint’s
tomb, he appeared to pray; but perhaps called down imprecations on
our doomed heads. God bless the old fool! If I had an hour’s talk
with him, I would leave him some doubts as to which of us is the
most fit for Jehannum.
We rode for an hour-and-a-half round the walls, and yet, as I am told,
had not got half way. As sunset was nigh, I proposed to finish our
ride round the town another day.
We entered a gate near the Kutubía mosque, and passing by a very
handsome archway, now blocked up, but formerly, I am told, leading to
a Governor’s house, we rode past ruins and through gardens in the
midst of them. This town was once very extensive. It is said to have
had formerly four hundred thousand inhabitants. I don’t give it now
a hundred thousand. The ancient mosques, which are numerous and very
handsome, show what it must have been; and the inside of the Kutubía,
of which we had a glance in passing, is quite a maze of columns. An
old soldier of the Second Guards, in writing of this capital,
described its numerous but narrow streets in ancient times thus:
‘When the traveller entered the city gates he did not see sunshine
again until he left the town.’ In speaking of the value of the land,
which is now worthless and sold at the lowest price for gardens,
he said, ‘Ground was formerly purchased by covering the surface to
be bought with coins laid close to one another.’ He spoke also of
the denseness of the population, the wealth of the inhabitants, and
facility of making money in those times, and records a tradition that
a vendor of sugar-plums made five hundred ducats in one day by hawking
his goods at Bab-el-Khemés—or Thursday-gate—which is now closed.
I should have mentioned that we passed, outside the town, the Hara,
or village of lepers; it is close to the walls of the city.
Two lepers were standing near the roadside begging. I gave them a
few pieces of money. These wretched people live almost entirely upon
alms. The Sultan gives them annually about seven thousand ducats,
or about a thousand pounds sterling. I hear that their children prove
sometimes quite free of the malady, but the curse is in their blood
and they must remain in the Hara and intermarry with lepers. People
of bad character, or those condemned for crime, often, I am told,
escape to the Hara, and find concealment there by assuming the
covering of the lepers and living with them, until perhaps they
become lepers or their crimes are forgotten.
_April 12._ Received a letter from the Sultan, at half-past six
this morning, to say that H.S.M. had appointed eight a.m. for the
audience. I tumbled out of bed and gave my directions to prepare
the presents and to have each box borne by a mule and the smaller
cases on the heads of men—altogether eleven packages. Whilst I was
yet dressing, the Kaid Madáni—General of the Sultan’s household
troops—came to say that we were to mount and leave our dwelling at
half-past seven. We were punctual to our time: I, leading the van,
with the Kaid Madáni; St. Leger, Escazena and the Doctor immediately
behind us. Having traversed various narrow streets and lanes,
and passed under some half-dozen horse-shoe archways, we entered
a large square in front of the Sultan’s palace, in ‘Ghásats
E’Nil.’ The entrance to this palace, where the Sultan’s ladies
are living, is through a gate called ‘Bab Khadár,’ or ‘the
Green Gate.’ We left this gate and the forbidden fruit it led to,
on our left. Before we had reached the opposite side of the square,
messengers were running backwards and forwards, from the Uzir and Mul
Meshwa (the Lord High Chamberlain) to the Kaid Madáni, telling us
to halt, or to advance. After several halts, we came to the gate of
Kubbats E’Suiera, or the ‘Picture Cupola.’ Here we dismounted,
and leaving our animals and the presents at the door, entered again
into another large yard or square, about a quarter of a mile in length
and rather less in breadth. The sides were lined with soldiers, who
presented arms to us in the Moorish fashion—i.e. shouldering them.
In front of the gateway of the palace, or rather kiosk, were placed
three brass field-pieces (about eight pounders) and three dismounted
iron guns (twenty-four pounders). Two soldiers, shouldering each
a long pike, stood near the cannon facing the kiosk. Here we were
again halted for a couple of minutes, when the Mul Meshwa beckoned us
forward and, advancing at a very slow, respectful pace, we approached
the Sherifian gate. The entrance to the kiosk was not what I should
have expected, for it was on a small scale and poorly ornamented. In
the hall sat several of the Sherifian secretaries and clerks. Here
again we were made to pause before we were brought to the foot of
a narrow winding staircase, which we ascended, preceded by the Mul
Meshwa. On reaching the landing, where there was a gallery commanding
a fine view of a vast garden on the one side and of the court through
which we had passed on the other, I saw two figures standing in a
doorway to our right. These persons were the Grand Uzir, Ben Dris,
and the Minister, Sid Alarbi Mokta. The Mul Meshwa now stepped forward
to the open doorway and made a low bow; I followed, and discovered
the Sultan seated on an ordinary chair, near an open window. I then
also made a low bow, and His Majesty said in a loud voice and with
a kind manner, ‘Zid’ (approach)—the Mul Meshwa adding in a
low voice, ‘our Lord says approach.’
The Mul Meshwa had now taken off his shoes, and, holding in my
right hand the Queen’s letter of credence, I advanced a few paces
and made another low bow. The Sultan repeated the word ‘Zid,’
so again bowing I approached within about five steps of where
H.S.M. was seated and, placing myself immediately in front of him,
as the Mul Meshwa intimated, repeated my respectful obeisance. The
Mul Meshwa retired and I stood alone with the Sultan, who, looking
very gracious and smiling, said, ‘You are welcome! The bonds of
peace and friendship which have existed from ancient time between
our ancestors and the ancestors of your sovereign still continue and
shall endure. We hold your Queen and nation as the most friendly,
above all sovereigns and nations, to our Royal person.
‘We knew your father; he was well inclined to us, proved a faithful
servant of the two Governments, and we held him in favour as one of
the chosen of the Empire. We have now become acquainted with you,
and the friendship and good-will which we held towards your father
shall be inherited by you. What is your first name?’
Bowing, I replied, and the Sultan resumed: ‘You are the bearer of
a letter from your Queen.’ Then, calling Ben Dris, said to him,
‘Take the letter for me from the Consul; I shall read it and the
answer shall be given, if it please God, at another time.’
Sid Ben Dris advanced barefoot, and, making a low bow, took the
letter and retired to his post.
The Sultan, having paused in his speech, I made a suitable reply.
The Sultan then made a sign to the Mul Meshwa to advance and said to
him, ‘Show the Consul my gardens, and take him wherever he wishes,
so as to afford him amusement and pleasure.’
Before I quit this subject I must record the appearance and dress of
Sultan Mulai Abderahman. He appeared a middle-sized man of some sixty
years of age with a dark complexion, of a shade lighter than that
of a mulatto, short black beard, arched eyebrows, large black eyes
with a slight squint in one eye (but not so as to give an unpleasant
expression), nose long and aquiline. He had a healthy appearance,
and a very kind and benign expression of face. He was dressed in a
white ‘haik’ which hid his under garments; over the ‘haik’
he wore a white ‘sulham,’ or burnous; on his head a high red
cap and a white turban, and yellow slippers on his bare feet. There
was no emblem of royalty near his person, nor any attendant except
those outside the room.
It has been the custom for the Sultan to give his first audience to
Europeans in my position, on horseback, with the Imperial umbrella
over his head and in an open court. My reception is considered a very
favourable one, and it is thought that H.S.M. has shown me especial
condescension. In fact, I am told that I have been ‘the most
favoured of Envoys that have ever come to the Sherifian presence.’
We returned by the same staircase and entrance: our horses had been
brought near to the doorway; we mounted, and accompanied by the Mul
Meshwa, visited the several gardens of the Sultan. There were few
flowers but roses; these were in abundance and most sweet. Trellises
of vines, groves of orange-trees, woods of pomegranate, olive, peach,
pear, citron, lemon, palm, apple, plum, fig and other trees covered
these vast cultivated wildernesses. Straight tápia walls enclosed
these gardens and thousands of vines, from which the infant grapes
were peeping, were trained against them on canes.
_April 13._ At twelve o’clock I had a conference with the Uzir Ben
Dris at his private dwelling, a pretty Moorish house standing in the
middle of a large garden, which is cultivated with far better taste,
and shows a greater variety of flowers, than any of the Sultan’s
gardens. His Excellency received me at the door and led me to a
picturesque court with marble columns, mosaic pavements, and a
bubbling fountain in the centre, with a view of orange-trees and
roses to delight the eye on every side. A chair had been provided
for me, and the Uzir sat on a low mattress, handsomely covered,
and furnished with piles of luxurious cushions. Two little slaves
were the only attendants present during our long conference. When a
step was heard in the garden his Excellency seemed to be under some
anxiety lest there should be any eavesdroppers. Coffee was brought
in by one of the slaves, and was served in handsome china cups,
placed on a bright brass tray inlaid with mosaic. His Excellency
sipped from each cup that I partook of before handing it to me, to
show that it was free from poison, for this Uzir has sometimes given
a deadly feast to his guests, who, whilst partaking of ministerial
hospitality, laid the seeds of some dread disease in the intestines
which wore away their life in a few months or perhaps years.
Our conference lasted three hours. The Uzir told me he was merely
acting as the ‘ear of the Sultan,’ and that he was desired to
report every word to His Majesty, who alone would decide upon every
matter. In reply I said that, nevertheless, I should consider myself
indebted to him if I could report favourably to our Government upon
the Sultan’s replies, which was sufficient to let him understand
what my sentiments would be vice versâ.
In the afternoon I rode out; starting from the same gate by which we
had entered on a previous evening, and continuing our circuit round
the town, it was an hour and a half before we reached the gate we
started from on the first day, so Marákesh must be a good twelve
miles in circumference.
The scenery of the distant Atlas mountains was very grand.
_April 14._ This morning, before I rose, a very beautiful bay horse
arrived as a present from the Sultan, brought by the head groom of
H.S.M.’s stables. He was covered with a handsome horsecloth, and
is one of the finest animals I have seen in the country: standing
a good fifteen hands and a half.
After our breakfast, came Hadj Gabári, the jester of the Uzir,
with a note from his Excellency, of which this is a translation;—
Praise to the one God!
To the mediator of the two nations, Mr. J. H. D. Hay. May God
exalt you!
The bearer is sent to amuse you. Let the painter that is with you
see him and the various forms he can assume: he is a jester. Peace!
Finished 17th Rabea, 1262.
Hadj Gabári was a funny fellow, made all sorts of grimaces and a
number of _bon mots_; had been in the East and spoke of Mehemet Ali;
told us that, when in Egypt, he had been called upon to serve in the
army, but got freed upon being told to march to see whether he would
make a good soldier. He then showed us how he had walked, which was
much like the gait of one of Astley’s clowns. Hadj Gabári meant
this joke, I suspect, as a cut at the discipline of the Sultan’s
troops. Escazena made a very good caricature of the jester, with
one eye shut. I dispatched it to the Uzir, with a note to thank his
Excellency for the amusement he had afforded, adding that I sent
him back two jesters, with only three eyes between them.
I have been pointed out certain marks on my horse (turns of the hair)
underneath his neck, which the Moors assure me are the best guarantee
that the owner of the animal will never have any wish in life that he
will not obtain. My horse has also been turning up one of his hoofs
or resting his foot, as all horses do, and I am told that this is
his ‘fatha’ or mode of prayer, and that he is praying God for
his own and his master’s welfare.
_April 15._ Had another long interview with the Uzir. His Excellency
has promised verbally, in the name of the Sultan, to give a favourable
answer to each affair. We shall see how the letters run, for I have
required that all be written—‘Quod scriptum est manet.’
The Sultan, it seems, is vastly pleased with the Queen’s gifts,
especially the long gun barrels.
The Uzir asked many questions about India and our late victories
there; about the war in China, our possessions there, &c., &c. I
afforded him all the information he desired, and gave him some more
distinct ideas than he had before of our power and wealth, compared
with those of other nations, and let him understand (what few Moors
do) that we can be powerful without being tyrannical or oppressive;
that the weak and the strong nation are equally respected by us, if
they keep to their treaty engagements and show no ill-will towards
us. I finished by saying that the peace of the world was the greatest
blessing to mankind when founded upon such principles, and that
those nations with whom we had been at war in former times were now
our good friends, whilst our old friends remained our best friends.
_April 16._ Another horse was brought me this morning as a present
from the Sultan. He is not so handsome as the last, but a fine animal.
It has always been customary, on the occasion of a visit of a
Consul-General to the Sultan, for His Majesty to give two horses:
to give less would be ominous of the Consul or his nation being out
of favour.
_April 17._ Saw from the roof of our dwelling the Sultan go to the
great mosque, the Kutubía, at twelve o’clock. The new troops lined
the road. A large body of unmounted irregular troops marched before
His Majesty, who was immediately preceded by two lance-bearers. The
Sultan was dressed in white, as on the day of my reception, and
mounted on a white horse. A man on foot held a large red silk
umbrella, with a gilt ball on the top and a long pole for a stick,
over the ‘Exalted Presence.’
Some thirty attendants, all dressed in white except for their red
caps, surrounded the person of the Sultan, from whom, with white
handkerchiefs, they kept off the flies. The regular troops presented
arms, and the drums beat as His Majesty passed, whilst the female
spectators screamed the ‘zagharit,’ or shout of joy.
_April 18._ Up before daylight. At seven o’clock the Sultan sent
for me, and mounted on the Sherifian gift, I rode with a train
of soldiers to the Ghásats E’Nil, or the Garden of the Nile,
where it was arranged the audience should take place. The Mul Meshwa
met me at the palace gate with his attendants, and I was conducted
into a court some two hundred yards square, at the end of which,
near the doorway of the palace, sat the ‘Exalted Presence’
on a raised platform in the open air. His Majesty was seated at
first on a divan, but whilst I approached with measured steps, the
divan was exchanged for a chair. Ben Dris was standing near. After
various bows I came within some few paces of H.S.M. and then halted,
when the Sultan said, ‘We have been glad to become acquainted with
you; we had very friendly feelings towards your father, and have now
the same towards you. Our minister has reported to us all you have
represented, and we see that you are a prudent person and desirous
of serving faithfully the interests of the two countries.’
I thanked His Majesty for such flattering sentiments, and expressed
also my grateful acknowledgements for the readiness with which he had
given ear and consented to the settlement of the various affairs that
had been brought under his notice by the Uzir; but at the same time
I urgently begged that he would keep in mind those affairs relating
to commerce, upon which depended most important interests, as also
the welfare of a large class of His Majesty’s subjects and those
of my gracious Sovereign.
The Sultan replied that he should bear them in mind, but that he
required time to consider the matter.
I then took leave, and H.S.M. commanded that I should be taken into
the interior of the court and garden where his harem resided—a
special favour which, the Sultan added, had been granted to my
father, and therefore ‘the son should have the same privilege.’
Accompanied by two eunuchs, for I was now to be admitted within
the prison cage of many a wild and lovely woman, we passed under a
lofty archway, in which were two small carriages like bath-chairs,
and entered the garden; like the rest in Marákesh, full of oranges,
roses, and fruit-trees, adorned with fountains and wide walks. As
we passed along the avenues I saw the spectre of a female vanish at
our approach, and, as far as I dared indulge my curiosity, she was
as pale and pretty as the negresses that accompanied her were sooty
and hideous. The fair Sultana’s dress was white, and I confess I
hardly observed how it was made, as I strained my vision to see her
face rather than her form. At the windows, or small loop-holes of the
palace, I could hear _en passant_ whispers, and saw visions of tips of
fingers, both white and black, and brilliant eyes darting fiery looks.
I came back by the way I had entered. The Sultan had retired. Ben
Dris was still there, and we settled all remaining matters.
On April 18 Mr. Hay left Marákesh. On the 19th he writes:—While
resting to-day, one of my Bokhári guards gave me a history of
the origin of their becoming the body-guard of the Moorish Sultan,
which legend I introduce as follows.
Mulai Ismael, who reigned some two hundred years ago, was one of the
most powerful but vainglorious of the Moorish potentates who have
been shadowed by the Sherifian umbrella. Desirous of extending his
dominions, and in consequence of the black Kings of Sudan, Timbuktu,
&c., not having sent him the customary annual present for some years,
he determined to march into the desert and subdue the petty princes of
the interior, who reigned over districts contiguous to his dominions.
Having prepared an army of ten thousand men he marched towards
Timbuktu.
The Bokhári Kaid here described the sufferings and loss the army
was said to have experienced on traversing the desert.
On approaching Timbuktu Mulai Ismael learnt to his dismay that the
Sultan of Sudan had surrounded him with a force tenfold his own,
and that in a few hours he might expect to be overwhelmed; upon which
H.M. wept, and sent for his Uzir, who, being a cunning and wise man,
said, ‘Weep not, O mighty One! Grant that I go as Ambassador to
the Sultan of Sudan. Give me full powers to act as I think best,
and I will guarantee that your Majesty shall retire hence with all
honour and without losing a man.’
The Sultan then issued his Royal firman to the Uzir to act as he
deemed right for the good of Islam; so the wily Uzir, taking presents
with him and a flag of peace, set out for the camp of the Sultan
of Sudan, by whom he was received with much pomp and magnificence,
and to whom he thus declared the object of his mission:—
‘Sultan of Sultans, King of the black race, my master the Sultan
of Fas and Marákesh, &c., &c., sends you greeting and gifts. He has
come to these distant parts with all his followers, having heard of
your fame and power; and is desirous of allying himself to you by
demanding the hand in marriage of your Majesty’s daughter, whose
beauty the Moorish poets and songsters daily extol. Therefore, O
Mighty Prince, our Lord and Master doth homage to your most sable and
queenly daughter, and hath brought the chiefs of his kingdom and his
troops to show her and you that he is worthy of such a Royal prize.’
The black Sultan, who had been wroth with Mulai Ismael for his
apparently hostile and daring intrusion into his kingdom, now smiled
with joy at the flattering proposition made through the Uzir in
the name of the descendant of the Prophet, the ‘Prince of the
Faithful.’
The demand was acceded to. The sable daughter of the Sultan of Sudan
was betrothed to Mulai Ismael. Rich presents in gold and silver,
and ten thousand black warriors, as a dowry, were presented to the
Sultan of Morocco to wait upon the dark bride. These troops and
their descendants have ever since formed the most faithful guards
of his Majesty the Sultan of Morocco.
This same Sultan, Mulai Ismael, after a revolt of his troops, it is
said, formed a body of some twenty thousand Jews as regular cavalry,
thinking that though they had not the courage of Mussulmans, he
would find them more faithful subjects.
Shortly after they had been trained in the art of war, His Majesty
ordered his Jewish troops to march against some rebels near the
town of Fas. The Jews, who were tired of soldiers’ fare and the
hardships of the life, bethought them how best to be freed from
such misery. A learned Rabbi and General of the troops, after some
reflection, undertook to obtain this freedom; so the very day they
were to march from Fas, he waited on the Sultan and said, that
though he and his brethren were all ready and eager for battle and
to fight in H.M.’s cause, they begged their Lord the Sultan would
send a few of his guards with the army to prevent the Moorish boys
insulting them; ‘for our Lord the Sultan knows,’ said the wily
Rabbi, ‘that a Jew cannot strike a Moslem.’
Mulai Ismael disbanded _instanter_ the Israelitish army.
_April 20._ Pursuing our course for some seven or eight miles
over an arid plain famous for fattening sheep, though the blades
of parched grass in an acre might, I think, have been counted,
we reached, about seven o’clock, a fountain called Ain-Umast
(Ain means eye or spring), near which were the remains of a large
Moorish town. From this fountain we ascended into a hilly country
covered with the argan tree[14], from the fruit of which the argan
oil is extracted; the leaves of this tree are of a fine deep green,
the fruit is rather larger than an olive and pointed at one end. The
trees run from thirty to forty feet high, and their lower branches
extend frequently to about the same length.
The trees were laden with fruit. Like the palms near Marákesh, every
tree has its owner, though there appears to be a forest many miles
in extent. The fruit is ripe in autumn, and the harvest is collected
by threshing the trees. The fruit is then carried to magazines, and
camels and cattle fed upon it. They eat stone and all, but afterwards
void the stone whole, which is again collected and taken to the mill,
where it is crushed and the oil extracted. This is preferred by the
Moors to olive oil for cookery.
The commencement of the hilly ground has brought us into the
district of Shedma and into the northern part of Sus, one of the
great divisions of Morocco. The Sus people, like the Shloh and the
Rifians, are aborigines: they are a fine race, small limbed, but tall
and active. Here the place of the tent is taken by mud castles or
walled enclosures, within which they build their huts or small stone
houses. As we travelled on, though the sun was high in the heavens,
the air got cooler, and I fancied I could sniff the breeze from the
sea. The country improved as we advanced: corn-fields amidst the argan
trees. Here and there orchards of fig, grape, and other fruit-trees,
olive in abundance.
_April 21._ We were off at daybreak, and rode for two hours through
a forest of argan and wild olives. We then entered a barren waste,
covered with steep sandhills, which drift like snow with the wind,
so as to render it impossible, after a gale, to find a vestige or
track of former passengers. These hills are from forty to eighty
feet high, almost perpendicular in the ascent and descent, and extend
some three or four miles from the coast.
The picturesque town of Mogador, or Suiera, presented itself as we
reached the summit of these hills; it lies in a flat sandy plain
and the sea washes its walls on the southern and western sides. In
winter the sea floods the plain, leaving Mogador as it were an island,
except for a causeway over an aqueduct, raised some feet from the
ground. On our approach to the town, the batteries saluted me with
eleven guns, which was responded to by Her Majesty’s steamer
Meteor. The Governor and all the authorities came out to meet us,
with two hundred cavalry and three or four hundred infantry; all
the accustomed honours and parade were gone through.
Mogador is the European name given to the town of Suiera from a
saint’s tomb on an island, about half-a-mile from shore, called
Sid Mogdul. The island is fortified, and forms a shelter for
shipping from the west and north winds. Mogador was built in the
last century, 1760 I think, by Sultan Mohammed Ben Abdallah. An
immense sum of money was laid out, as the Sultan built all the
merchants’ houses, as well as the walls of the town and many fine
Government buildings. It was called by him Suiera, or the picture,
from its regularity and handsome appearance when compared with the
generality of other Moorish towns. The houses are fine buildings,
some of them three stories high; the streets broad and straight. The
two main streets run through the town at right angles, so that you
can see out of each gate of the town at the same time. There are
many solid, neat archways dividing the different quarters of the town.
The walls, batteries, mosques, and public stores are solid and
handsome, but partaking rather of the European than Moorish style
of architecture, therefore much less interesting to a European eye.
Sultan Mohammed built the town as an emporium for trade with
the interior, which it afterwards became; and several firms of
British merchants of some wealth had been established here till the
bombardment of the place by the French, when they escaped. Owing
to the debts due by these persons to the Moorish Government and the
loss of property they experienced by the plunder of the town by the
wild tribes, they have not returned either to claim their property
or to liquidate their debts. At the earnest request of the Governor,
I passed the night at this place.
Embarking on board the Meteor on April 22, Mr. Hay reached Tangier
on the 24th.
In a letter, written on this expedition to his friend the
Hon. A. Gordon, Mr. Hay gives some interesting notes on the habits
of the Moors. He says:—
My friend N. was right when he said the Moors do not smoke. The
Moors are perhaps the most fanatical of the Mohammedan sect, and
much stricter in observance of the laws of their prophet than their
brethren in the East. Smoking is looked upon as a sin; for smoking
is supposed by them to produce intoxication—or at least a slight
aberration of the senses—and can therefore be placed in the same
category as wine, which was forbidden by Mohammed solely on that
account.
A Mohammedan sage was once asked what was the greatest sin a
man could commit. He replied—‘To get drunk,’ and told the
following parable: ‘A certain man of good repute drank large
potations of the juice of the grape until he became intoxicated and
lost his senses. When in that state, _he lied, he stole, he committed
adultery and murder_; none of which sins would he have been capable of
committing had he not sinned against the Koran by drinking wine.’
The Moor, however, when he does drink wine, drinks to get drunk, and
when he smokes he uses a herb called ‘kif,’ a species of hemp,
which produces much the same effect on the senses as opium.
Here and there you find a Tangerine with a cigar in his mouth; but
then you may be sure he is a worthless fellow and has learnt the
vice from the ‘Nazarenes.’ Tobacco is much used in the form of
snuff, and the snuff of the town of Tetuan is deservedly famed for
its pungent flavour.
‘Ahel tanbakko lil Jinnats yasbakko’ is a Moorish doggerel couplet
meaning, ‘Snuff-takers enter heaven first.’ This may be said to
reconcile many a snuff-taker to his box of vice, whereas those who
do not so indulge take the proverb in another sense as inferring
that the snuff-takers have a short life.
The Moor takes his snuff as we Highlanders do; not in a pinch, but
by laying it along the hollow of the back of his thumb. Very small
cocoa-nut shells, having a narrow ivory mouth-piece, form the usual
style of box, to which is attached by a small chain an ivory pin to
stir up the snuff, which is jerked through the orifice. But I am
growing tiresome, and though snuff may keep the attention awake,
it will not do so, I fear, when taken in this manner and in so
plentiful a dose.
You ask about the Jews in this country; much may be said, and I
will endeavour in subsequent letters to tell you all I know. They
are a sadly degraded race, full of bigotry and superstition, but
retaining their activity, cunning, and love for each other, together
with an extraordinary firmness in their belief—for which, indeed,
these persecuted people have been always famed in every clime.
The Jew of Morocco, next to the Negro in the West Indies and America,
is the most persecuted and degraded of God’s creatures. In Tangier
and the seaport towns, through the Christian Representatives, the
Jews have ever received a certain indirect countenance and support,
but in the interior their fate is a very hard one.
The subject of the Jews in Morocco was one that greatly interested
Mr. Hay. In subsequent notes and letters, as the following extracts
show, he redeemed his promise to Mr. Gordon. Thus he writes:—
With respect to the Jews, I have knowledge of there being a population
of about four or five thousand in the Atlas mountains beyond the
city of Marákesh, and they are said to have lived there ever since
the time of Solomon.
These Jews are armed, but are not independent; each Jewish family
having its Moorish master, or protector. In the feuds of the Moors
in the mountainous regions they take part and, by their active
and warlike life, acquire a far more independent spirit than their
brethren of the seaport towns and of the capitals. There is some
tradition about their Rabbis possessing a document containing the
signet of Joab, who was sent to collect tribute from them in the
time of the son of David.
In 1844 there still existed an ancient inscription in Hebrew graven
on a stone in the Dra country, which was said to be as follows:
עד כאן הגיץ יואב בן צרויה לקבל המס which
is interpreted thus, ‘So far as this place came Joab Ben (son of)
Serruia to receive the tribute.’
Joab, chief of the army of King David, is called in the recognised
translation of the Bible ‘the son of Zeruiah.’
A drunken Rabbi, named Judah Azalia, called on me the other day;
he has been travelling for three years in the southern districts of
Morocco, and he visited also many of the towns and villages bordering
on the Great Desert beyond Dra, which province you will find marked
in the map. Judah was half intoxicated, as usual, when he visited me,
and he left Tangier before I could entrap him in a sober moment. Judah
had travelled much in the East, had read a number of curious old
books, and was full of traditions he had picked up in the interior
of this country; but all he told me was in such a jumbled state that
I could not retain it, but requested the learned and drunken Rabbi
to commit to paper the subject-matter of our conversation.
I send you a translation of the Hebrew original.
From the _preface_ you will expect much; but, alas! there is only
the phantom of a skeleton, whose doubtful apparition leaves us big
with fancies and uncertainty. The man knows nothing of geography or
history, except the Bible.
You will be struck with the tradition of the Jews of the interior
respecting the tribe of Naphtali, the tombs, &c. I regret he
has curtailed greatly his verbal statements; for, amongst other
curious matter, he told me of a burial-ground of the Jews in the
interior—some mile or mile and a half in circumference.
The story about the Israelite warriors is curious, but the staining
of the hair before battle looks more like the Goths.
Judah supposes that Wadan is much nearer the Red Sea than it really
is; but if the Naphtali tribes fled from captivity, through Central
Africa, towards Dra and the South of Morocco, one of the first towns
or villages at which they would have found means of subsistence,
would have been Wadden or Yaden.
The names of the places and towns are so different from those given
in our maps, as indeed they always appear to be when mentioned by
natives of the interior, that I can hardly recognise them, and have
no time just now to refer to my maps of Africa.
Judah has promised to send me a further memorandum, but the fumes
of ‘agua ardiente’ will, I fear, stifle all recollection of
his promise.
TRANSLATION FROM THE HEBREW.
I am about to give a description respecting my brethren of Israel,
who, through captivity, are now dwelling in Western Barbary, and to
tell—as far as my knowledge permits—of their state, their mode
of living and genealogy; being in conformity with what has been
related to me by wise old men and persons of integrity and good
faith, incapable of stating an untruth. I will further relate what
I have personally witnessed during the travels of my youth, as also
the information I have obtained from ancient and exact tradition,
both in manuscript and in print.
It is well known that when Sennacherib (? Shalmaneser[15]), king
of Assyria, conquered the people of Israel, these (the Israelites),
were led into captivity to Lahleh (? Halah) and Habor. Thence all the
Israelite tribe of Naphtali, or the greater portion thereof, sought
refuge in Vaden, a town situated on the limits of Guinea (meaning
Central Africa), which town had at that time direct communication with
Lahleh and Habor. From Vaden they (the Israelites) were scattered to
Daha[16], Tafilelt, and Vakka[17] which are situated on the confines
of the Province of Daha towards Ofran, according to the writings of
the pious Rabbi, Jakob Benisargan, who places Vakka upon the borders
of the river of Daha. Thus were the Israelites spread throughout
the interior of Africa.
In Vaden there is a large burial ground of Jews, whose sepulchres are
covered with slabs of stone bearing very intelligible epitaphs. In
Vaden there is a synagogue where fragments of the Pentateuch and of
the Prophets, written on parchment, are to be found.
In Ofran is to be seen a carved stone with a Hebrew inscription
which has existed since the destruction of the first temple. In
the burial ground there are several tombstones bearing epitaphs,
of which the genealogy is written in the Hebrew character but in
the Arabic tongue: some of these are dated three hundred years ago,
others go as far back as twelve hundred years.
From Ofran you journey to Eleg[18], where there exists a large
congregation of Jews; exactly as is related by the famous and
illustrious Rabbi, Izak Barseset. In Ofran there stands a building
which it is supposed was erected by one of the ancient kings
of Western Barbary. It is constructed with large hewn square
stones. There are also ruins of buildings which are supposed to
be Roman.
Then comes the town of Telin, and later that of Thala, where
there exists even at the present time an immense stone, and at its
foot is a pool of water. The old people of the place tell you of a
tradition that upon this stone the Israelite warriors prepared a dye
of ‘henna[19]’, with which they dyed their hair before going to
battle. They relate that the number of the said warriors amounted to
four hundred thousand cavalry. It is said that on one occasion the
enemies of these warriors treacherously came to offer peace upon any
conditions that might be imposed. The peace having been concluded
on the sacred day of Kipur[20], all the Israelites were unarmed,
but the enemy had hidden their own arms in the sand.
The Israelites, glad to profit by so advantageous a peace—and not
suspecting any treachery—approached the hostile army, perceiving
also that they had no arms, when suddenly a preconcerted signal
was given, and the latter, rushing upon the Israelites, cut them
to pieces. One slave alone survived this most fatal misfortune,
and he buried the bodies of the slain. On account of their number
he put ten bodies into each grave, but for the last grave there
were only nine bodies, so the slave—overwhelmed with grief and
sorrow—threw himself into the grave to complete the ten. Even to
the present time this spot is called ‘The sepulchre of the ten.’
At a little distance from Eleg, there is a celebrated fountain called
Ras-el-Ain (the source of the spring), so called because there is
a spring of water at forty fathoms below the surface. The fountain
can be followed three days’ journey irrigating the olive, fig,
pomegranate, almond, and palm trees, and the land is also thereby
watered for the cultivation of grain and vegetables.
The following towns or villages are to be noted as having Hebrews
among the population: Zaachian, Lasakia, Takulebat, Torribat,
Bardlaiimi, and Taheret[21]. This last-mentioned town is noted for
being the birthplace of many learned Jews and Rabbis in very ancient
times. The most celebrated and illustrious Rabbi, Judah El Hayugni,
was born at Taheret. He it was who founded the grammar of our sacred
language.
Beyond Taheret is the town of Lasats, which has a large Jewish
population. In it there are gardens and fruit trees, which are
cultivated with great success.
The best limes in Barbary are grown here, and are used in the
religious ceremonies of the Jews throughout Morocco.
Mulai Hashem, a native of Tafilelt, tells me that the Jews are very
numerous in his country. He says there are two races of Jews among
them, one race has been in Tafilelt since eight years previous to
the Hegira of Mohammed, the other having been brought in by a chief
named Mulai Ali, the son of Mulai Hassan.
Mulai Ali, says my informant, had purchased these Jews from
some distant country of the East—where he found them in great
distress—and he gave fifty pieces of money for each: what money
he does not know.
Mulai Hashem says that these two races are thus distinguished. The
older race have the whole head shaved. The colony brought by Mulai
Ali leave a small segment of a circle unshaved on the top of the
forehead. These latter also wear a black cap, somewhat pointed at
the top, where it is made to curl down on one side of the face.
The Jewesses are not dressed like those that live in Tangier, but
in the costume of the Moorish woman, and wear rich dresses with
jewels. They are however to be distinguished from the Moorish woman
by the arrangement of their hair, which the latter draw backwards
from either side of the forehead over the temples to the back of the
head; whereas the Jewesses (unmarried) twist their hair in circles
on the top of the head. The married Jewesses are not allowed by the
law to show their hair. This law, by the way, is not from the Bible,
but is an invention of the Rabbis.
The Jews, said Mulai Hashem, are well treated in Tafilelt, whilst
they behave well and according to the rules laid down for them;
which, by the specimen of one that he gave, appear sufficiently
humiliating—viz. that should a Jew pass or be passed by a Sheríf,
he, the Jew, must take off his shoes; or, if mounted, must dismount,
unless specially absolved by the Sheríf.
He tells me that they exercise all the crafts which are practised
in the country, except tilling the soil. It appears that the Jews
themselves seldom, if ever, accompany the ‘kafilas’ (caravans),
but, he says, they have commercial dealings with the Sudan country.
It would appear that the Tafilelt Jews are much at their ease,
if one may judge from the joking adage—according to Mulai Hashem
common in Tafilelt—that ‘forty Mohammedans work for one Jew.’
Mulai Hashem said that the Filali Jews, or Jews of Tafilelt, speak the
Shloh tongue as well as the Arabic, and whenever they wish to say what
they would not have known to Moors or others they speak in Hebrew.
A learned Jew of this country tells me that all Arabs and Moors
whose names are composed with Ben are of an Israelitish origin.
Mulai Hashem tells me that the following oath is administered in his
country to the Jews, and that they will rather give back anything
they may have come by unjustly than take so grave an oath:—
‘By God, there is no other God but He, the Eternal and Just—who
uttered His word upon the mighty hill—and by the truth of the
existence of the two palm-trees which meet together over the river
_Sebts_, and by the Book of Moses—peace be upon him—and by the
Ten Commandments delivered unto Moses, and by all that is contained
in his Book, the _Gadi_, God forbid that I should add or diminish
in this affair, else may God destroy my memory, and may the name of
my family be never mentioned in the world.’
_Sebts_ is the Arabic for Sabbath, and is here applied to the fabled
river called by the Jews Sabbatyon.
It is not clear what is meant by _Gadi_.
A Jewish Rabbi, named Benshiten, tells me that two and a half tribes
of Israel are the portion which make up the number of Jews that
are found in Europe and Africa—and the remaining nine and a half
are found to exist on the East of a river which is named Sabbatyon,
and is said to be to the East of Mecca. This river, said he, has the
peculiarity of the stones in its bed fighting with each other all
the week excepting the Sabbath, on which day Hebrews cannot travel;
so that the nine and a half tribes cannot communicate with their
separated brethren.
Mr. Hay, it may be added, was the first to break through some of the
despotic rules imposed by the Moors on the Jews. On his arrival at
Tangier in 1844 the Hebrew interpreters attached to the different
Consulates were obliged to remove—as did their brethren—their
slippers on passing a mosque or other sanctuary. When he paid
his visit of ceremony to the Basha, on succeeding his father as
Consul-General and Political Agent, Mr. Hay went, according to the
custom of those days, in full uniform. He was accompanied by his
staff, of which one member—the Interpreter, Mr. David Sicsu—was a
Jew, a shrewd and able man, who had been attached for some years to
the British Consulate. On their way to the Basha’s residence they
passed the great mosque. Mr. Hay noticed that Sicsu stopped and took
off his shoes; so turning, he called out to him in a loud voice, that
all might hear, ‘What are you doing? Put on your shoes. Remember
you are an English employé and, as such, have all the privileges of
British subjects. If ever you do that again, I shall dismiss you.’
Also, on his first visit to the Sultan’s Court, in 1846, Mr. Hay
insisted on his Jewish interpreters being allowed to ride about the
capital on mule-back, and to enjoy the same rights and privileges
as granted to other members of his staff.
It is only within the last thirty years that Jews in Morocco—not
foreign employés or protected subjects—have been allowed to assume
the European dress, or to wear yellow slippers or red caps when in
native costume. Formerly they were compelled to confine themselves
to black slippers and caps and the Jewish gaberdine.