LIFE AT TANGIER.
Mr. Hay had married, in 1845, a daughter of Mr. Carstensen, a former
Danish Consul-General to Morocco. Except when the exigencies of a
climate which proved very trying in summer for children of northern
race compelled him to send them home, he, with his wife and young
family, resided either at the old Government House in Tangier or in
a villa called by him ‘The Wilderness,’ outside the walls, which
had belonged to his father-in-law. This existence was only varied
by missions to the Court or occasional visits to England. Beyond
the very small European society, composed chiefly of the various
Representatives and their families, residence in Tangier offered no
occupation for the leisure hours of a young and active man. Thrown
therefore on the resources of sport, he mingled constantly with the
wilder natives of the hills as well as with the less uncivilised
farmers and agricultural peasantry of the plains. His interest in
these folk grew, and he gained their respect and even affection.
Justice amongst these people, when regarded from a purely personal
point of view, as Mr. Hay found, often took rather a romantic than
a strictly logical form. But his hope was to gain the hearts of the
natives, and he knew that such an aim was best attained by bending
in some cases to such national prejudices and customs as those which
are illustrated in the following letter to his mother.
‘The Wilderness,’ Tangier, _June 22_, 1852.
The other night A. and I were woke by my servant Azdot informing me
he had just seized a robber who had come into the garden to steal
our horses, but that the fellow, though stabbed in the breast
by the son of Hadj Abdallah, whom he had attacked with a sword,
had managed to slip out of his jelab (outer cloak) and get away,
leaving as trophies the jelab and a sword they had wrested from him.
A quarter of an hour after I had dismissed Azdot, I heard a couple
of shots close by the house. My people had found the companion of
the robber, who attacked them and then attempted to make off and
was fired upon, but managed to get away—though tracks of blood
were found in the gap of the hedge through which he had escaped.
This morning I sent off a body of my hunters into the country, about
twelve miles from here, to where I suspected the robbers lived:
the men were identified and brought before me. They confessed their
crime, but declared that they had only come to rob the fruit.
Whilst telling the man the punishment I was about to inflict on him,
he escaped; so we raised a hue and cry, and judge and attendants
all made after him. His object, however, was only to get hold of my
horse, whose protection he claimed, according to Moorish custom. He
was again brought before me and I was compelled to let him off the
bastinado[23], condemning him to prison only. R. was standing near
me at the time and, to his surprise, the robber sprang towards him,
and seizing him by the hand said to me, ‘I call on you in God’s
name and for the love of this boy, under the hem of whose garment
I seek refuge, to have pity on me.’
After this appeal there was no use in talking of punishing the man,
and the upshot of all was that I caused the rascal to pay a doubloon
to my men and two of the Kaid’s soldiers for arresting him. The
man and his brother are the Robin Hoods of this neighbourhood, and,
grateful for my pardon, declare that they are ready to defend me
and mine whenever I call on them: or if any of my cows, camels,
or horses are robbed to cause them to be restored.
Our Governor has given an order to my people to kill any man coming
into my garden at night. This order is published: so we are safer
from thieves than you are in England. I have generally some dozen
fine fellows, armed to the teeth, who guard my garden all night,
and who seek for no other compensation than to be my friends.
The promise made by the robber was faithfully kept, and Mr. Hay reaped
the reward of his leniency in after years, as, by this clan at least,
his property was always respected.
An indefatigable sportsman, Mr. Hay delighted in expeditions into
remote districts of the country in pursuit of game. It was thus in
part that he acquired his intimate knowledge of the character of
the people. Brought into personal contact with the wild tribesmen,
in circumstances which strongly appealed to their natural chivalry,
he gained an influence among them which he was often able to turn
to useful account. A good illustration of his power of dealing with
the native races is afforded by his suppression of piracy among the
Rifians. The story is told in his own words.
Before the year 1856, vessels becalmed on the Rif coast between the
Algerian frontier and the Spanish fortress Peñon, which is situated
about sixty miles to the eastward of the Moorish port of Tetuan,
were frequently captured by Rifian ‘karebs,’ large galleys manned
by thirty or forty men, armed with long guns, pistols, and daggers.
When a vessel becalmed, drawn by the current, approached the Rif
coast, especially in the vicinity of the village of Benibugaffer, near
Cape ‘Tres Forcas,’ about fifteen miles to the westward of the
Spanish fortress of Melilla, the natives launched their ‘karebs,’
hidden in nooks on the rocky coast, or buried under sand, and set
out in pursuit, firing volleys as they neared the vessel. The crew,
if they had not escaped in the ship’s boats when the piratical
craft hove in sight, were made prisoners, but were not in general
ill-treated unless they attempted to offer resistance.
On landing, they were compelled to labour in the fields, receiving a
daily allowance of very coarse food. The captured vessel was rifled
of cargo and rigging, and then burnt, so as to leave no vestige.
In the year 1851 a British vessel was taken by the ‘karebs’
of Benibugaffer.
In pursuance of instructions from H.M.’s Government, a strong
representation was made by me to the Sultan of Morocco, then Mulai
Abderahman, demanding that the pirates should be chastised, that
compensation should be given to the owner of the vessel, and that
energetic steps should be taken by His Sherifian Majesty to put a
stop to these piratical acts of his lawless subjects of the Rif.
The Sultan, on the receipt of this demand, dispatched officers
from his Court to the Rif country with a Sherifian edict to the
chieftains, directing that the sums demanded for the destruction
of British property should be paid, and threatening, if further
piracies were committed, to send a force into the Rif to chastise
his rebellious subjects.
No attention was paid to this edict, for though the Rifians
acknowledge the Sultan of Morocco as ‘Kaliph[24] Allah,’
H.M. being a direct descendant from the Prophet, and though they allow
a governor of Rif extraction to be appointed by him to reside amongst
them, they do not admit of his interference in the administration
of government or in any kind of legislation, unless it happens he
is voluntarily appealed to in cases of dispute.
The Rifians, however, pay annually a small tribute, which is generally
composed of mules and honey, the latter article being much cultivated
on the extensive tracts of heather in the Rif mountains. This tribute
is collected by the Governor and transmitted to the Sultan.
After a lengthened correspondence with the Moorish Court, negotiations
were closed by the Sultan declaring he had no power of control
over the mountainous districts in the Rif, and therefore declining
to be held responsible for the depredations committed on vessels
approaching that coast. The British Government then dispatched a
squadron to Gibraltar under Admiral Sir Charles Napier, with orders
to embark a regiment at that garrison, and to proceed to the Rif
coast to chastise the lawless inhabitants.
On his arrival at the Spanish fort of Melilla, which is about fifty
miles to the westward of the Algerian frontier, Sir Charles called
on the Spanish Governor and requested him to invite the chiefs of
the neighbouring villages to come to Melilla to meet him.
On their arrival, the Admiral demanded compensation for the losses
sustained by the owner of the British vessels which had been
captured. The Rifians cunningly evaded discussion by replying that
they could not accede to demands which did not emanate from the
Sultan, whose orders they declared they would be prepared to obey.
Sir Charles accepted these vague assurances[25]; and with this
unsatisfactory result returned with the squadron to Gibraltar, and
addressed to me a communication, making known the language held to
him by the Rifians, and requesting that I would dispatch an express
courier to the Moorish Court to call upon the Sultan to give the
requisite orders to the Rifians who, he declared, were prepared
to obey, though he admitted he was ignorant of the names of the
chieftains with whom he had the parley.
In my reply to the Admiral I expressed my belief that the Rifians
had cunningly given these vague assurances to induce him to depart
with his ships from their coast, and that I apprehended the Sultan
would express his surprise that we should have been led to suppose
that the piratical and rebellious inhabitants of the Rif coast would
pay compensation or give other satisfaction, in pursuance of any
orders which H.S.M. might issue.
In this sense, as I had expected, the Sultan replied to my note;
holding out, however, a hope, which had been expressed in past years,
that he would seek at a more favourable moment to make the Rif
population, who had been from time immemorial in a semi-independent
state, more subservient to his control.
Some months after the squadron had returned to England, a British
vessel, becalmed off the village of Benibugaffer, was taken by a
Rifian piratical craft, and the English crew were made captives.
Tidings having reached Gibraltar of the capture of the British ship,
a gunboat was sent to Melilla to endeavour to obtain, through the
intervention of the Spanish authorities and an offer of a ransom,
the release of the British sailors, but this step was not attended
with success. Having heard that the Englishmen who had been captured
had been presented by the pirates to a Rif Marábet (or holy man)
named Alhádari, who resided on the coast, and as I had in past
years been in friendly communication with this person regarding
some Rifians who had proceeded in a British vessel to the East on
a pilgrimage to Mecca, and had been provided by me with letters of
recommendation to British Consular officers, I wrote him a friendly
letter, expressing the indignation I felt at the outrages which had
been committed by his piratical brethren on British vessels; that
I had been informed the authorities at Gibraltar had endeavoured,
when they heard British sailors were in the hands of the pirates, to
pay a ransom for their freedom, but had failed, as exorbitant demands
had been put forward; and that since I had learnt my countrymen were
in his hands, I felt satisfied they would be well treated, and that
he would facilitate at once their release and return to Gibraltar;
that I entertained too high an opinion of him to suppose he would
not consent to their release except on the payment of a ransom,
and therefore I would make no offer to purchase the liberty of my
countrymen, but renewed those assurances of friendship and goodwill,
of which I said I had already given proof in the past treatment of
his brethren.
Alhádari replied that the sailors were under his care, had been
well treated, and would be embarked in the first vessel which might
be sent to receive them.
This engagement was faithfully executed, and at my suggestion the
authorities at Gibraltar sent a suitable present to the worthy
Marábet. I wrote also to thank Alhádari, and to beg that he would
use his influence to put a stop to the disgraceful outrages committed
in past years by his brethren on the lives and property of British
subjects, and to say that I should probably take an opportunity of
seeking to have a parley with the chiefs, in the hope of coming to an
understanding with them to bring about a cessation of these outrages;
adding, that if my friendly intervention did not put a stop to the
piracy of his brethren, the British Government would be compelled,
in concert with the Sultan, to resort to hostile measures on a large
scale, and send forces by sea and land to chastise these rebellious
subjects of His Sherifian Majesty.
In the spring of 1856 H.M. frigate Miranda, Captain Hall, arrived
at Tangier with directions to convey me to the coast of Rif, and I
embarked on April 21, taking with me a Rifian friend, Hadj Abdallah
Lamarti, who was Sheikh of a village near Tangier called Suanni,
whose inhabitants are Rifians, or of Rif extraction.
Hadj Abdallah had left the Rif in consequence of a blood feud. He
was the chief of the boar-hunters at Tangier, and was looked up to
with respect, not only by the rural population in the neighbourhood
of that town, who are chiefly of Rif extraction, but also by the
local authorities, who frequently employed him in the settlement of
disputes with the refractory tribes in the mountainous districts of
the Tangier province.
We steamed along the rocky coast of Rif and touched at the Spanish
garrisons of Peñon and Alhucema. The former is a curious little rock,
separated from the mainland by a very narrow channel. A colonel and
a few soldiers garrisoned the fortress, which is apparently of no
possible use, though the authorities at that time might have aided
in checking piracy by stopping the passage of the Rif galleys. The
rock is so small that there was not a walk fifty yards long on any
part of it.
On the island of Alhucema, so called from the wild lavender that
grows there, we also landed. The Spanish authorities were civil, but
held out no hopes of being able to take steps to put a stop to piracy.
This island is also an insignificant possession, about half a
mile distant from the mainland. The inhabitants had occasional
communication with the Rifians, hoisting a flag of truce whenever a
boat was dispatched to the shore; but Spaniards were not at that time
allowed to make excursions on the mainland, nor were they permitted
to obtain provisions except a few fowls, eggs, and honey.
On our arrival at Melilla, the Governor, Colonel Buceta[26], received
us courteously. I made known to him that the British Government had
directed me to proceed to the coast of Rif, to endeavour to come to
an understanding with the chiefs with the view of putting a stop
to piracy on that coast, the Sultan of Morocco having declared he
had no power of control over his lawless subjects, who had shown
an utter disregard of the peremptory orders which had been issued
to restore British property captured by their piratical galleys;
that in order to carry out this object I was anxious to have an
interview with some of the chiefs, not only of the villages on the
coast where the owners of the piratical galleys dwelt, but more
especially with the chiefs of the neighbouring inland villages, as
the latter derived no immediate benefit from the plunder of shipping.
Colonel Buceta endeavoured to dissuade me from this purpose, reminding
me that Sir Charles Napier had failed in obtaining any beneficial
result from his parley with the Rifians who had an interview with
him in Melilla.
Perceiving from the Governor’s language that he entertained those
feelings of jealousy which prevail with Spaniards regarding the
intervention of any foreign Government in the affairs of Morocco,
I let him understand that, should no beneficial result be obtained
by my visit in putting a stop to the outrages committed on merchant
vessels approaching the Rif coast, it would become a serious matter
for the consideration of our Government whether steps should not be
taken to inflict a chastisement on the Rifians by landing a force, and
in conjunction with the Sultan’s troops which might be dispatched,
at our instigation, for that purpose, to destroy the hamlets and boats
on the coast. The question might also arise, perhaps, of erecting a
fortress in some sheltered spot where a gunboat could be placed to
guard the coast against pirates, which I observed the authorities
at Spanish fortresses had hitherto been unable to effect.
This language sufficed to decide Colonel Buceta to accede to my
wishes; but he informed me that, in consequence of late acts of
aggression on the part of the natives, all communication with the
garrison had been cut off, and that no Rifians were allowed to
enter; it was therefore out of the question that he could admit any
chieftains into Spanish territory. Neither did he think the latter
would be disposed to venture into the gates of the fortress.
I then proposed to be allowed to dispatch my Rifian friend Hadj
Abdallah Lamarti with an invitation to some of the neighbouring
chiefs, both on the seaboard and inland, to meet me on the neutral
ground.
Colonel Buceta assented, but he repeated that he could not admit
any Rifians into the garrison, nor send an escort to accompany me,
should I pass the gates to go into the Rif country, adding that he
thought I should be incurring a serious risk of being carried off a
prisoner by the Rifians, if in the parley I should happen to express
myself in language such as I had used to him regarding the outrages
committed by these lawless people.
His predecessor, he informed me, in consequence of the frequent
hostilities which had taken place between the natives and the
garrison, had proposed to have a meeting with some chieftains within
the garrison. This they declined, fearing, as they alleged, some
act of treachery; but it was finally agreed that they should meet
the Governor on the neutral ground; that he could bring an escort of
twenty-five armed men, and that the chiefs would also be accompanied
by an equal number of followers; that the Governor and one chief,
both unarmed, were to advance to a central spot that was selected
about 150 yards distant from where their followers assembled, and
that the Spanish Governor could also bring with him an interpreter.
This arrangement was carried out, and a Rifian chief, a man of
gigantic stature and herculean frame, advanced to meet the Spanish
Governor.
The parley commenced in a friendly manner; propositions were made
by each party regarding the conditions upon which peaceful relations
were to be re-established; but without bringing about any result.
The Spanish Governor, finding the demands put forward by the
chieftain to be of an unacceptable character, expressed himself
strongly on the subject. A warm dispute ensued, and on the Governor
using some offensive expression, the Rifian seized in his brawny
arms the Governor, who was a little man, and chucking him over his
shoulders like a sack of grain, called out to the Spanish detachment
of soldiers to blaze away, and at the same time to his own men to
fire if the Spanish soldiers fired or attempted to advance, whilst
the chieftain ran off with the Governor, who was like a shield on
his back, to his followers.
The officer in command of the Spanish detachment, fearing that the
Governor might be killed, did not venture to let his men fire or
advance, and the Governor was carried off prisoner to a village about
three miles off on the hills, and notice was then sent to the fortress
that he would not be released until a ransom of 3000 dollars was sent.
The Rifians kept the Governor prisoner until a reference was made to
Madrid, and orders were sent for the ransom to be paid. ‘Now,’
said Colonel Buceta, ‘your fate if you trust yourself to these
treacherous people will probably be the same, and I shall be quite
unable to obtain your release.’
I thanked the Governor for the advice, but declared that I must
fulfil my mission and was prepared to run all risks, having been
accustomed for many years to deal with Rifians at Tangier.
Buceta then consented that I should be allowed to pass the gates of
the garrison and invite the chiefs of the neighbouring Rif villages
to a parley on the neutral ground.
Colonel Buceta, a distinguished officer well known for his great
courage and decision, was I believe, on the whole, pleased that I
held to my purpose, though he warned me again and again that I was
incurring a great risk, and that in no manner could he intervene, if
I and the English officer who might accompany me were taken prisoners.
My messenger returned and informed me that the neighbouring chiefs,
both of the inland and of the piratical villages of Benibugaffer,
would meet me on the neutral ground as had been proposed to them.
Accompanied by Capt. Hall, who commanded H.M.’s frigate Miranda,
my friend Hadj Abdallah, and a ‘kavass,’ we proceeded to the
rendezvous.
Five or six chiefs awaited our advent, attended by some hundred
followers, stalwart fellows, many of them more than six feet high.
The chiefs wore brown hooded dresses, not unlike the costume of
a Franciscan friar; but part of the shirt-sleeves and front were
embroidered with coloured silks. Handsome leather-belts girded their
loins. A few of the elders wore white woollen ‘haiks,’ like unto
the Roman toga or mantle without seam, such as our Saviour is said
to have worn.
Some of the wild fellows had doffed their outer garments, carrying
them on their shoulders as they are wont to do when going to
battle. Their inner costume was a white cotton tunic, coming down
to the knees, with long wide sleeves fastened behind the back by a
cord. Around their loins each wore a leathern girdle embroidered in
coloured silk, from which on the one side hung a dagger and a small
pouch for bullets; while on the other was suspended a larger leathern
pouch or bag prettily embroidered and having a deep fringe of leather,
in which powder is carried; containing also a pocket to carry the
palmetto fibre, curiously enough called ‘lif,’ used instead
of wads over powder and ball. Their heads were closely shaved,
except that on the right side hung a long lock of braided hair,
carefully combed and oiled. Several of them were fair men with brown
or red beards, descendants perhaps of those Goths who crossed over
into Africa.
The wild fellows reclined in groups on a bank, immediately behind
where the chiefs were standing to receive us. After mutual greetings
I addressed them in Arabic, which though not the common language,
for Berber is spoken in the Rif, yet is understood by the better
classes, who learn to read the Koran and to write in the ‘jama’
or mosque school. The Berber is not a written language.
‘Oh, men! I come amongst you as a friend; an old friend of the
Mussulmans. I have been warned that Rifians are not to be trusted,
and that I and those who accompany me are in danger of treachery; but
I take no heed of such warnings, for Rifians are renowned for bravery,
and brave men never act in a dastardly manner. My best friends at
Tangier are Rifians, or those whose sires came from the Rif, such
as my friend here, Hadj Abdallah Lamarti. They are my hunters, and
I pass days and nights with them out hunting, and am treated by them
and look upon them as my brethren; so here I have come to meet you,
with the Captain of the frigate, unarmed, as you see, and without
even an escort of my countrymen from the ship-of-war lying there,
or from the Spanish garrison, for I felt sure I should never require
protection in the Rif against any man.’
‘You are welcome,’ exclaimed the chiefs. ‘The English have
always been our friends,’ and a murmur of approval ran through
the groups of armed men seated on the bank.
‘Yes!’ I continued, ‘the English have always been the friends
of the Sultan, the ‘Kaliph Allah,’ and of his people.
‘You are all Mussulmans, and as followers of the Prophet every year
a number of your brethren, who have the means, go to the shrine of the
Prophet at Mecca, as required by your religion. How do they go? In
English vessels from Tangier, as you know, and they are therefore,
when on board, under the English flag and protection. They are
well treated and their lives and property are safe. They return
to Tangier in the same manner, and many of them have come to me to
express their gratitude for the recommendations I have given them
to English officers in the East, and the kindness they have received
at their hands.
‘These facts, I think, are known to you; but let us now consider
what is the conduct of certain Rifians,—not all, I am happy to add,
but those who dwell on the coast and possess ‘karebs,’ for the
alleged purpose of trade with Tangier and Tetuan, and for fishing.
‘The inhabitants of these coast villages, especially of the
neighbouring village of Benibugaffer, when they espy a peaceful
merchant vessel becalmed off their coast, launch a ‘kareb’ with
forty or fifty armed men, and set out in pursuit. The crews of these
merchant vessels are unarmed, and generally consist of not more than
eight or nine men. When they observe a ‘kareb’ approaching with
a hostile appearance, they escape in their little boats to the open
sea, trusting to Providence to be picked up by some passing vessel
before bad weather sets in, which might cause their small craft to
founder. The merchant vessel is then towed to the beach, where she
is stranded, pillaged of cargo and rigging, and burnt.
‘I now appeal to all true Mussulmans whether such iniquitous
acts are not against the laws of God and of the Prophet. These
pirates are not waging war against enemies or infidels, they are
mere sea robbers, who set aside the laws of the Prophet to pillage
the peaceful ships of their friends the English, to whom they are
indebted for conveying their brethren in safety to worship at the
Holy ‘Kaaba’ of their Prophet.
‘To these English whom they rob, and also murder if they attempt
to resist, they are indebted for much of the clothing they wear,
for the iron and steel of which their arms are made, and for other
commodities. I now appeal to those Rifians who dwell in inland
villages, and who take no part in and have no profit from these
lawless acts, and I ask whether they will continue to tolerate such
infractions of Allah’s laws? Can these men of Benibugaffer who have
been guilty of frequent acts of piracy, can they be Mussulmans? No,
they must be “kaffers” (rebels against God).’ As I said this,
I heard from the mound behind me, where the Benibugaffer people were
seated, the sound of the cocking of guns, and a murmur, ‘He calls
us kaffers.’ Looking round, I perceived guns levelled at my back.
One of the elder Chiefs rose and cried out, ‘Let the English Chief
speak! What he says is true! Those who rob and murder on the seas
innocent people are not Mussulmans, for they do not obey the law
of God.’
I continued: ‘Hear what your wise Chief says. I fancied I heard a
sound like the click of a gun being cocked. Some foolish boys must
be sitting amongst the assembly, for no brave Rifians, Benibugaffers
included, would ever commit a cowardly murder on an unarmed man who
has come amongst you trusting to the honour and friendship between
the Rifians and English from ancient times.
‘You have, I think, heard that the English Government has
frequently complained to the Sultan Mulai Abderahman, the Kaliph
Allah and Emir El Mumenin (Prince of Believers), of the commission
of these outrages, and has put forward a demand for reparation and
compensation for damages.
‘The Sultan, who is the friend of the powerful Queen of England,
my Sovereign, under whose sway there are fifty million of Mussulmans
whom she governs with justice and kindness, issued his Sherifian
commands to you Rifians to cease from these outrages; but you paid
no attention to the orders of the Kaliph of the Prophet.
‘The Queen then sent a squadron to chastise the pirates and
obtain redress; but the Admiral took pity on the villages, where
innocent women and children dwelt, and did not fire a gun or burn
a ‘kareb,’ as he might have done. He had a parley with the
Benibugaffer people and other inhabitants of villages where boats
are kept.
‘They made false promises and pretended they would cease to commit
outrages, but, as was to be expected, they have broken faith, and
since that parley have been guilty of further acts of piracy. So now
I have come to see you and hear whether the Rifians in the inland
villages will continue to suffer these outrages to be committed by
those who dwell on the coast, which may expose all the honest and
innocent inhabitants of the Rif to the horrors of war.
‘I have begged that no steps should be taken by my countrymen,
lest the innocent should suffer, until I make this final attempt
to come to an understanding with you; but I have to warn you, as a
true friend, if another outrage be committed, my great and powerful
Sovereign, in conjunction with the Sultan, will send large forces
by sea and by land to carry fire and sword into your villages, and
bring the whole population under subjection. H.S.M. may then think
fit to compel the Rif tribes dwelling on the coast to migrate to
the interior of his realms, or, at any rate, they will no longer be
allowed to possess a single boat for trade, or even for fishing.
‘I now ask—Will you inland inhabitants tolerate the continuance
of piracy on the part of your brethren on the coast?—Will you brave
inhabitants of the coast continue to set Allah’s laws at defiance,
and thus expose your lives and property, and those of your inland
brethren, to destruction?’
The old Chief again spoke, and others stood up and joined him, saying:
‘He is right. We shall not allow these robberies to be committed on
our friends the English; such outrages must cease, and if continued,
we shall be prepared to chastise the guilty.’
The Benibugaffer Chiefs said, ‘We approve.’
‘I know,’ I continued, ‘you Rifians do not sign treaties or
like documents; but the words of brave men are more worthy of trust
than treaties, which are too often broken. Give me your hands.’
I held out mine. As the pledge of good faith I shook the hands of
the chiefs, including the Benibugaffer.
‘Remember,’ I said, ‘it is not English vessels, but all vessels
without exception must be respected on approaching your shores.’
‘We agree,’ they cried.
Upon which I exclaimed, ‘I have faith in your words. May God’s
mercy and blessing be on you all and grant you prosperity and
happiness! The Rifians and English shall remain true friends for
ever. I bid you farewell.’
‘Stay,’ said the chief of a neighbouring village, ‘come with us
and be our guest. We shall kill an ox to feast you and our brethren
here, and bid you welcome. You are a hunter; we shall show you sport,
and become better acquainted with each other. Upon our heads shall
be your life and those of your friends.’
Pointing to the frigate, I said: ‘That vessel has to return
immediately, and I have to report what has been done, in order to
stop all preparations for seeking through other means to obtain
the satisfaction you have so readily offered. I should have been
delighted to have gone with you and should have felt as safe as if
amongst my own countrymen. You are a brave race, incapable of doing
a wrong to a true friend. I shall never forget the manner in which
you have received me.
‘I bid you all farewell. I believe in your promises, even those
made by the Benibugaffer. Send messengers at once to the villages
on the coast and let them know the promises you have made, which
they also must be required to carry out strictly.’
The Chiefs and their followers tried all they could to persuade
me to accompany them but finally consented that I should depart,
on promising that I would some day revisit them.
Colonel Buceta was surprised to learn the result of my visit,
but said the Rifians would never keep faith, and that we should
soon hear of fresh acts of piracy. ‘In such case,’ I replied,
‘we shall have to land a force and burn every hamlet and boat on
the coast; but I have every hope the Rifians will keep faith.’
They have kept faith, and since that parley near Melilla no vessels,
either British or of other nationality, have been captured or molested
by the Rifians[27]
It was amongst these wild and lawless Rifians that Mr. Hay found the
most thorough sportsmen, and also men capable of great attachment
and devotion. Always much interested in the history of this race,
in their customs and mode of life, he wrote an interesting account
of the tribes which inhabit the north of Morocco and of his personal
intercourse with them.
The Rif province extends along the Mediterranean coast to the eastward
from a site called Borj Ustrak, in the province of Tetuan, for about
a hundred and fifty miles to the stream marked in maps as ‘Fum
Ajrud’ (mouth of Ajrud), the northern boundary between Morocco
and Algiers.
The Rif country to the southward, inland from the Mediterranean coast,
extends about thirty-five miles and on the westward is bordered by
the Tetuan province and the mountains of Khamás and Ghamára.
The population of Rif amounts, as far as can be calculated, to about
150,000 souls. The Rifians are a Berber race, and have never been
conquered by the various nations—Phœnicians, Romans, Goths, and
Arabs—who have invaded Mauritania: they have always maintained
their independence; but on the conquest of Morocco by the Arabs,
the Rifians accepted the Mohammedan faith, and acknowledged the
Sovereigns of Morocco as the Kaliphs of the Prophet.
The country is mountainous, the soil in most parts poor, and though
the Rif is rich in iron, copper, and other minerals, there are no
roads or means of conveyance to the seaboard. There are large forests
of ‘el aris[28],’ which the Rifians convey in their ‘karebs’
(sailing boats) to Tetuan and Tangier. They have no saws, so when a
tree is felled it is cut away with a hatchet until a beam or plank
is shaped, generally about ten feet long by a foot wide. This timber
has a strong aromatic odour, and when not exposed to damp is more
durable than oak. It was used for the woodwork of the Alhambra at
Granada and other Moorish palaces in Spain, and though many of the
Arabesque ornaments in plaster or stucco have fallen into decay and
walls have crumbled, this woodwork remains sound.
The Rifians are an industrious race; but their barren hills do not
produce sufficient grain to provide food for the population. Large
numbers migrate every year to different parts of Morocco, especially
to the northern provinces, and are employed to cultivate orchards and
gardens round Tangier and Tetuan. The majority of the inhabitants of
the town and neighbouring districts of Tangier are of Rif extraction.
In the Rif the natives do not submit to any authority except upon
religious or legal questions, such as marriage, inheritance, and
title deeds. The ‘f’ki,’ or chief priest in a village mosque,
draws up, with the aid of ‘tolba’ or public notaries, all legal
documents regarding marriage or property. In other matters the Rifian
does not submit to legislation; his gun, pistol, and dagger are his
judge and jury—yet crimes such as robbery, theft, or outrages on
women are rarely known, but murder from feud is rife throughout the
country to a frightful extent. No man’s life is secure, even though
he be a distant relative, such as the great-grandson, of some one
who may have taken a life thirty years before in a blood feud. The
widow of a murdered man will teach her son, as soon as he can carry
a gun or pistol, how to use those arms, and daily remind him that
his father must be avenged lest the son be looked upon as despicable.
The men always go armed even in their own villages. Cursing, swearing,
or abusive language, so common amongst the Moors, are rarely heard
in Rif; for the man who ventures to use an opprobrious epithet knows
that he incurs the risk of being stabbed or shot. A Rifian never
forgives or forgets an insult.
They are distinguished for their courage. During the war between
Spain and Morocco in 1859, they did not obey the appeal of the Sultan
for assistance; but the inhabitants of the district of Zarhon near
Fas, who are of Rif extraction, sent a contingent of 1,500 men to
Tetuan. They arrived a few days before the battle of ‘Agraz’—the
last which took place between the Moors and Spaniards before the
peace of 1860—and fought so determinedly that two-thirds of their
number fell during that battle.
Polygamy is extremely rare in Rif. Few men venture to take a second
wife lest offence be given thereby to the father or brother of either
of the women they have married. Even in Tangier, where there is a
population of over 9,000 Mohammedans, chiefly Rifians by descent,
I never heard of more than four or five Moors who had two wives. When
an exception occurs, it has generally been at the request of the wife,
who, having had no child, begs her husband to marry some cousin or
friend, selected perhaps by herself.
Immoral conduct on the part of married women or maidens is unknown;
for, should they be suspected of leading an irregular life by father,
husband, or other male relative, such disgrace is wiped out by death.
Rifian women do not cover their faces. If a man sees a young woman
fetching water from a well or walking alone, he will avoid meeting
her, and even turn back rather than run the risk of being seen by
some relative of the female and be suspected of having communicated
with her by word or gesture. He will shun the woman who may be alone,
as a modest girl in Europe might try to avoid a man whom she should
happen to meet when walking in some lonely spot.
Some years ago an old Rifian, one of my boar-hunters, who dwelt at
a village near Tangier, presented himself before me looking very
miserable and haggard. ‘I take refuge under the hem of your
garment,’ he exclaimed, ‘and deliver into your hands these
title-deeds of my hut and garden, also a document regarding a mare;
these are all my possessions. I am about to deliver myself up to
the Basha of Tangier, Kaid Abbas Emkashéd, and to ask that I be
sent to prison.’
On inquiring of the old hunter why he thought of taking such an
extraordinary step, and also what he expected me to do with his
papers and property, he replied, whilst trembling from head to
foot, with tears running down his rugged cheeks and his teeth
chattering as he spoke, ‘My youngest daughter, whom I loved so
dearly’—here he gasped for breath—‘is no more. I have buried
her. She was put to death with my consent.’ Poor Hadj Kassim then
covered his face and sobbed violently, paused to recover himself,
and continued, ‘The authorities have heard that my daughter,
who was very beautiful, has disappeared, and have given orders that
some innocent persons who are suspected should be arrested, as it
is supposed she has been carried off or murdered. I cannot remain a
passive spectator whilst innocent men suffer, feeling that the whole
blame of the disappearance of my child rests on me alone. My daughter
was of a joyous character, and, like a silly girl, thought only of
amusement. Both her mother and I had repeatedly punished her for going
to weddings or other festivities without our permission. She had been
warned that misconduct on her part, as a Rifian maiden, would never
be forgiven; but she took no heed. Some neighbours reported that she
had been seen going to Tangier to dance in the “mesriahs.” Her
shameless conduct became a source of great scandal in the village,
and as it was supposed that I countenanced her misconduct, I was
shunned by my friends. They no longer returned my salams, and when
I joined the elders, who are wont to assemble of an afternoon on
our village green, they turned their backs on me.
‘Life had become a burden, and my son, who was also taunted by
young men for having a sister of bad repute, came to me yesterday,
when he heard that she had again gone off to the town, and declared
that as Rifians we could not allow a daughter and sister who did
not obey her parents, and brought disgrace on her family, to live.
‘Though I loved dearly my foolish child,’ continued the old
hunter, ‘I gave way to the passionate language of my son, and
consented that, should we discover she danced at the “mesriah,”
she should die.
‘We went to Tangier and concealed ourselves near the entrance of a
“mesriah” we were told she frequented. We saw her enter, followed
by some young Moors. A little before sunset she came out, enveloped
in her “haik,” and walked hurriedly towards our village. She
did not see us, and we followed her until we reached a path in the
brushwood not far from our village, and then we stopped her. My son
accused her of leading a disgraceful life, and then struck her heavily
with a bill-hook on the head. She fell, never to speak again. We
buried her in a secluded spot. My son killed her, but I am really her
murderer—I alone am responsible for her death; but my wretched child
could not have lived to be a curse and a disgrace.’ Then the poor
Hadj trembled in his acute misery, and shook as if he had the palsy.
‘I shall,’ he continued, ‘present myself to the Basha. I
shall not say I am the murderer, as the Basha is a Rifian, and will
understand all when I declare I wish no man to be arrested on account
of the disappearance of my child, and that I alone am responsible
for whatever may have happened to her.
‘Now,’ he added, ‘you know, according to Moorish law, no man
can be punished for murder unless he acknowledges his crime, and that
after twelve months’ imprisonment, should no witnesses appear, the
accused can claim to be liberated from prison. If I live, therefore, I
shall be released; but I care no longer for life, except it be to work
and provide for my wife and remaining daughter. As to the title-deeds
of my property, I implore you to keep them until I am released, for,
as you know, it is the practice of the authorities to take possession
of the property of a prisoner who is a criminal such as I am. You have
often lent me small sums of money—for I have been your hunter—and
you have not asked to be repaid. Should there be any attempt on the
part of the authorities to take possession of my house, garden, or
mare, or should my family be called upon to give up the title-deeds,
I have directed them to say the “Bashador” is in possession of
all our property as a guarantee for repayment of money advanced by
him. This will check extortion. The Basha is of my tribe, and will
be just and merciful to a poor Rifian in misfortune. He knows that
death is better than dishonour and disgrace. Oh! my unhappy child!’
he exclaimed; ‘your life has been taken, and I long for the day
when Allah may take mine!’ and again the old man wept piteously.
I took charge of his papers; he presented himself that day before
the Basha, and after having a few questions put to him, was lodged
in prison. As he left the presence of the Basha, the latter called
to the guard who led him away, and said, ‘No fetters are to be
placed on this man; his family may visit him.’
Hadj Kassim remained a year in prison, and on his release presented
himself to me to recover his papers, informing me that no steps had
been taken to seize his property, but, on the contrary, the Basha
had shown him kindness in prison, sending him occasionally a little
present in money; and that when he was brought before him, on being
let out of prison, the Basha said, ‘We are Rifians. The most High
and Merciful God forgives the sins of men. I also forgive thee.’
The wretched man never hunted again or associated with his
fellow-villagers, whose esteem and regard he had regained. His spirit
was broken; he wandered about, pale and emaciated—speechless
even—amongst his friends. A few months after his release from
prison I learnt that he had died.
The interest which Mr. Hay took in the natives was not entirely
confined to the Rifians. The needs and sufferings of his poorer
neighbours—whether Christian, Hebrew, or Moslem—always met with
his sympathy, and, so far as lay in his power, he sought to assist
them in times of distress. In December, 1857, after a severe famine,
he writes to his wife, then in England:—
My farm has yielded wheat plentifully: I have enough for the house,
for seed, and some hundred almuds over, which I shall give in your
name to the poor Christians, Jews, and Moors this winter—equally
divided—as there is, I fear, great misery. The poor peasants
had no seed to sow this year, so there is a lack of wheat. I have
asked the Sultan to lend seed gratis to the poorer farmers, and, to
practise what I preach, I shall lay out £100 for the same object. If
something is not done we shall have fever and famine again this
year. At present the general health is excellent and there are no
fevers, but I fear the winter, and poor folk flocking into the town,
will bring typhus again.
Only think of a rascally Jew trying to sell me some $10,000 worth
of stolen jewels for $2,000. From the stupidity of the Governor’s
soldiers, the accomplices in the robbery made off with the jewels
before they were seized, though I had given notice. The only person
seized was the Jew who tried to bribe me into committing the roguery.
Curiously enough, since my return, there have been two other
attempts made to impose upon me gifts to large amounts to secure
my good-will. Of course I have declined to receive them, but I am
almost ashamed to think that people should have such a poor opinion
of my character as to venture upon making me such offers.
In proof that his kindness was not unrecognised by the natives,
the following anecdote is told by Mrs. Chapman, Sir John’s only
surviving sister:—
Two or three years after the famine in Morocco, one of the tribes from
the interior sent a deputation of chiefs who asked to speak to John.
During the great scarcity, he had sent for corn from Spain, and
dispatched camels laden with grain to the different tribes who were
suffering from starvation, to relieve their distress and supply them
with seed to sow their land.
The chiefs, fine hill-men, were received by my brother and unfolded
the purpose of their mission. They said, ‘We have heard a report
that you are about to dig a well in one of your gardens. We come to
entreat you to allow us to do this thing for you, as a slight proof
of our gratitude for your generosity. You heard that we and our
families were starving; you did not know us, but you believe in the
one God and Father of us all, and you would not let your brothers
want; you sent your gold across the sea and caused a ship to come,
laden with grain, and sent camels with sacks of corn for our food
and to sow our land. God will reward you!—but let _us_ do this
little thing. We will come with our families and encamp around your
garden, we will dig your well and tend your fruit and flowers and
take nothing. We will bring our cattle and our sheep for food, and
you shall be at no cost on our account. This will partly satisfy our
desire to show our gratitude, and you, when you drink of the water
of this well, will remember your poor brethren whom you saved from
death, for love of the one God.’
John consented, and gave them leave to do as they wished.
When the report spread that these wild people were coming within a
mile of Tangier, the alarmed townsfolk sent a messenger to beg my
brother to dissuade the tribe from coming, declaring that they were
much to be feared, and that their proximity would endanger the peace
of the town. My brother told the messenger he would be responsible
for the orderly conduct of the tribe.
They came and dug the well, the garden and grounds were left in
perfect order, and the strangers quitted the neighbourhood in peace,
going quietly back to their hills.
Another instance of the gratitude of which these wild people are
capable may be inserted here, though the actual occurrence took
place a few years later, and after another and similar bad season
with failure of crops in the Rif.
In the stress of famine the starving mountaineers crowded, with their
families, to Tangier in search of work and food. Strenuous efforts
were made by the people of Tangier and the foreign Representatives
to assist these unhappy folk. In reply to an appeal from Sir John,
a large subscription was raised in Gibraltar, and expended in flour,
which was sent for distribution to the care of the British Legation
at Tangier.
Some of these unfortunate Rifians found work near Tangier; others,
their immediate wants relieved, as tidings came from Rif that rain
had fallen and prospects were better, returned to their homes in
small detachments; but many remained. Cholera and smallpox broke out
amongst these, and numbers died, leaving orphan children, too young,
in many instances, to be able to give any account of themselves or
their families. These were adopted by charitable townsfolk, and are
now many of them prosperous, well-to-do individuals. But when the
cholera and famine were ended, several hundred Rifians, with their
families, remained. These poor people were finally dismissed in a body
to their own country, provided with the means of purchasing seed-corn,
and with clothing and food for their journey. When leaving Tangier
they assembled at daybreak outside the gates of the town. There,
raising their hands to heaven, they called down a blessing from God
on the town and people, and more especially on the Christians who
had shown them such charity and kindness.
Not long after they gave good proof of their gratitude. A ship was
wrecked on the coast inhabited by some of these very Rifians. The
crew were succoured and sheltered by them, and a contingent personally
conducted them in safety to Tangier.