THE WAR WITH SPAIN. 1859-1862.
In September, 1859, Mr. Hay returned from leave to find that Sultan
Mulai Abderahman had just died, and that troubles were brewing on
the French frontier. With Spain also difficulties had arisen and,
for months past, the Spanish Government had been preparing for
an expedition against Morocco. The ostensible motive which was put
forward for these hostilities was the chastisement of the Rif pirates
and the redress of insults received at Ceuta. But public opinion in
England inclined to believe that, under cover of reprisals for past
wrongs, schemes of European aggrandisement upon the coast opposite
Gibraltar were to be carried out by simultaneous action on the part
of France and Spain against Morocco.
Lord John Russell, then at the head of Foreign Affairs, raised no
objection to the temporary occupation of Tangier by the Spaniards;
and Spain, who had steadily refused all offers of English mediation,
only replied to repeated concessions on the part of the Moors with
fresh and more exorbitant demands. At length, early in October, 1859,
the Spanish Chargé d’Affaires sent secretly to beg Mr. Hay to
persuade the Moorish Government to give way yet once more, at the same
time solemnly assuring him that, if this demand were accepted, peace
would be made. Mr. Hay spent six hours with the Moorish Minister,
upon whom he brought to bear every possible argument, and terrified
him by the prospect of the dire displeasure of the Sultan in case
of a refusal. The Minister accepted the ultimatum and fell into a
fainting fit!
Four days later, on October 15, a third ultimatum was presented,
involving the cession of further territory. Mr. Hay then withdrew from
further mediation, and war was declared between Spain and Morocco.
Many years after, Mr. (then Sir John) Hay was called on by the
subordinate official who had brought him the secret message from
the Spanish Chargé d’Affaires. Sir John recalled the incident,
and then for the first time heard an explanation of what had appeared
to be an act of bad faith.
The ex-official related that the third ultimatum was brought by a
Spanish war-ship. On board the vessel was an official, who informed
the Chargé d’Affaires that _war was determined on_, whatever
might be the concessions made by the Moors; that the attempt to
arrange matters had been a grave mistake, and that now any extravagant
concession, however absurd, must be demanded as a pretext for war. The
Spanish Chargé d’Affaires told his subordinate how distressed he
was at thus appearing to deceive his British colleague; but added
‘We must obey orders and keep them secret.’
War having been declared, the European population and many of the
Jews fled from the coast towns to Europe, rather from fear of the
wild tribes who flocked to the defence of their country, than on
account of the threatened invasion by Spain.
Mr. Hay stopped his wife and two little girls, who were on their
way from England to join him, at Gibraltar—where they remained
during the six months that hostilities continued. But he, with the
English portion of his staff, stayed at Tangier. All other Foreign
Representatives left.
Writing at this time to his mother, he says:—
All is quiet here up to the present moment; thanks to my friends,
the hunters, having acted as the police of the town, and saved all
Christians from molestation.
It is supposed the Sultan will be acknowledged everywhere, but my
supposition about the French frontier being invaded has turned out
too true; all however may be arranged quietly.
It is rather from the Spaniards that we have to expect trouble and
ferment. They have been playing the fool at Ceuta, and now seek for
satisfaction, which would humiliate the new Sultan, and then perhaps
cause him, if he concedes, to totter upon his throne before he has
even taken a firm seat thereon.
‘My friends the hunters,’ alluded to in this letter, were, it
may be explained, villagers from outlying hamlets in the Tangier
district. They were strongly attached to Mr. Hay as a brother
sportsman and friend, and are frequently mentioned in his stories and
in his little book on Western Barbary. The bond lasted throughout
his life, though one generation of hunters passed away during his
long residence in Morocco.
Writing again to his wife on November 13, he says:—
Green and Reade[39] live with me, and are very useful and attentive;
but I am bored with this bachelor’s life and miss my wife and my
dear children.
All well so far.
Government has again approved of all I have done and am doing.
When war begins you will probably see me; but be assured I shall
not be in Tangier when bombardment takes place. I shall either
be on board a ship or safe inland amongst my hunters on ‘Mount
Washington[40].’ No imprudence shall I be guilty of, for your
sake. As to the Moors, they are ready to do anything for me. I will
not trust the Spaniards, nor go amongst the ‘Kabail.’
Sultan’s brother (Mulai Abbas, in command of the troops) and I
are good friends.
Tangier is deserted. Nothing but armed men: not a woman, not a child.
Difficulty in getting anything.
Every effort was made by the Spaniards to remove Mr. Hay from the
scene of action. His conduct was the subject of violent attacks by
the Spanish Minister, Señor Castelar, and by the Madrid press. It
was also commented on in a letter in the _Times_ from the Special
Correspondent of that paper. These attacks were brought before the
House of Commons, where Mr. Hay’s conduct was defended by Lord
John Russell and Mr. Liddell.
‘From Mr. Hay’s long residence in Morocco,’ said Lord John,
‘and his kindness to all who hold any intercourse with him,
he has gained to a great degree the respect of the people of that
country, not only of the Foreign Minister of the Emperor of Morocco,
who was formerly a merchant, but of the wild tribes of natives who
so frequently made incursions into the Spanish settlements. Having
this influence, I believe that he, according to instructions from
Her Majesty’s Government, endeavoured to prevent the breaking out
of war between Spain and Morocco. He endeavoured to prevent this war,
till he was told by the Moorish Minister that, whatever advice might
be given, Morocco could make no further concessions. Mr. Drummond
Hay did exert himself to the utmost, and used the influence he had
so justly acquired to prevent the outbreak of hostilities. Since
that time, it being the policy of Her Majesty’s Government to
be neutral in the war, his conduct has been in strict conformity
with his instructions. The hon. member has read a report from the
correspondent of _The Times_ newspaper—a very respectable gentleman,
I believe; but he is in the Spanish camp, and can hear nothing but
what he is told by Spaniards. They have stated various matters which
the correspondent repeats, but he says that he knows nothing of them,
and has no proof of them whatever. I have not heard from Mr. Drummond
Hay since he had an opportunity of seeing these statements in the
newspaper, but I have not a doubt they are, one and all, entirely
false. I do not believe that Mr. Drummond Hay has felt it his duty
to take any part in the war. The Spanish Minister did on one occasion
state to Mr. Buchanan that complaints had been made of the partiality
of Mr. Drummond Hay; but he gave no instance of such partiality,
nor any proof of it whatever. We are aware that the Spanish
Government in this war has obtained the aid of British merchants,
and that the Spanish army has been supplied with British stores and
provisions. Any complaints, therefore, of a violation of neutrality
might more justly be made by the Government of Morocco than by the
Government of Spain. I believe that the conduct of Mr. Drummond Hay
has been entirely free from blame. I do not wish to say which party
in this war is right; but I cannot sympathise with the enthusiasm
of the hon. gentleman in regard to it. I do not think because one
party is Christian and the other Mohammedan, we ought to give the
former all our sympathy, without knowing the causes of the quarrel.
Throughout the whole crisis Mr. Hay’s efforts to protect property
were unremitting, and an instance of his success is here given in
his own words.
When the rupture of relations between Spain and Morocco took place,
and Spanish subjects at Tangier were required by their Government
to leave Morocco, the ‘Padre Superior’ of the Roman Catholic
Mission paid me a visit, and informed me he had received orders from
the Spanish Minister to embark, with all the members of his Mission,
in a vessel sent to convey them to Spain. He added: ‘We are ordered
off in such haste that we have no time to pack and convey to Spain
the sacred pictures, crucifixes, and other religious emblems adorning
the chapel.’
(At that time the only chapel was that adjoining the Spanish
Legation.)
‘All the Foreign Representatives,’ he continued, ‘the Consular
Officers, as well as all foreign subjects, both Christians and Jews,
have begun to depart, and I hear that no one of them, with the
exception of yourself and the gentlemen attached to the British
Consulate, intends to remain in the country, fearing that the
Mohammedan population may, when the war commences, massacre the
Christians and Jews and pillage their dwellings.’
I replied that it was my intention to remain at my post, and that,
as I had never acted unjustly or unkindly towards the Mohammedans,
I had no grounds for supposing that they would seek to injure me;
though, in pursuance of instructions received from my Government,
my family would remain at Gibraltar.
The Padre Superior then said that the object of his visit was to ask
me a great favour—that I would prevent, as far as lay in my power,
the chapel from being broken into and pillaged.
‘After all,’ he said, ‘though we may entertain different views
regarding the forms of the Christian religion, _somos hermanos_
(we are brothers).’
I told the Padre it would afford me sincere satisfaction to be of
service to him; that I should let the Moorish authorities—and
also my native friends in the town—know that the Roman Catholic
Chapel was a house of God, and that it would be taken under my
special protection.
The Padre expressed his heartfelt thanks, and, shaking hands warmly,
we parted.
At the commencement of the war, large bodies of armed men belonging
to the tribes of the provinces of Tangier and El Araish arrived at
the former town, to buy powder and provisions before proceeding to
the Ceuta district—the seat of war. Amongst them came a body of
Beni Aros, composed of twelve hundred armed men. They are a fanatical
tribe, many of them being Sherífs, and guardians of the sanctuary
of Mulai Abd Selam. These wild fellows assembled in the little
market-place adjoining the Spanish Legation, which was situated about
a hundred yards from the British Consulate, and in the same street.
A Tangier Moor, having overheard some of the chiefs of these Beni
Aros, who were purchasing provisions, propose that the tribe should
break into and pillage the Spanish Legation and burn the Chapel,
ran down to report to my kavasses what they had said. As soon as I
received the information, I walked towards the little market-place,
accompanied by one of these kavasses, just in time to meet the
tribe, who had collected in the market-place, and were moving in
a body towards the Spanish Chapel with hostile intentions. I was
not acquainted with any of the Chiefs, but my kavass announced
to them that I was the ‘Naib Ingliz,’ the friend of the Moors,
who—having confidence in their good-will—had remained in Tangier,
when all other Christians had fled.
‘Oh, friends and warriors of the faith!’ I exclaimed, ‘where
are you going?’
They replied, with shouts,
‘It is our intention to destroy the dwelling of the accursed
“kaffer” (unbeliever), and the Spanish place where they worship
the devil, and to burn the pictures and idols it contains.’
I said, ‘Are you not aware that this house of the Spanish
Bashador and all it contains, as also this place of worship since
the declaration of war, is no longer the property of the Spaniards,
but belongs to your Lord the Sultan? Moreover, the Spaniards do not
worship the devil, but Allah—though their forms are different from
yours and mine. That chapel is a house of God, and you would bring
a curse on yourselves by committing such a sacrilege, and would be
punished by the Sultan for destroying his property. You are brave
warriors of your faith, going to the seat of war to defend your
country. War not against brick and mortar, the property of your Lord
and Master the Sultan, but lose no time and hasten off to Ceuta to
join your brethren in arms who await you.’
‘The Englishman speaks the truth,’ the chief Sheikh cried
out. ‘He is the friend of the Mussulmans. Come away.’
Many of the wild fellows looked up as they passed and gave me a
friendly nod.
Not a door, not even a pane of glass, was broken, and when peace
was restored and the Spanish Legation and other Missions returned,
everything was found safe and uninjured as they had left it.
During the war, my friend the Superior had died, and was succeeded by
another very worthy priest, who devoted day and night to attending
on the sick. All that he possessed he gave away in charity to
the poor, but he was more fanatical and intolerant towards the
‘hereticos’—as he called all Christians of other than the
Roman Catholic creed—than towards the Mohammedans and Jews.
On the return of the Franciscan Mission, after peace had been
concluded, the Superior called and thanked me for having guarded
the chapel and their property, which, he said, was found just as it
had been left. I replied that it had afforded me much pleasure to
be of service to the Franciscan friars, always so distinguished for
their charity and kindness to the poor Christians and Mohammedans;
and, ‘after all,’ I said, ‘_Somos Cristianos y hermanos_’
(‘we are Christians and brothers’).
The Padre looked very grave when I used this expression, and took his
leave. The following day he called again, after dark, and requested
to see me in private. He told me that he had been pondering over
the expression I had used, ‘_Somos Cristianos y hermanos_.’
‘If that be indeed the case,’ he added, ‘I rejoice; but I am
surprised that, as a Christian, you never attend at the Chapel. If,
on the other hand, you are still a Protestant, then you are not a
Christian or a brother, but a heretic, damned to all eternity.’
He continued, ‘Are you a Catholic?’
I replied, ‘Yes.’
‘Do you believe in God?’ ‘Yes.’
‘In the Trinity?’ ‘Yes.’
Then followed questions regarding the Sacraments, and whether I
acknowledged the Pope as God’s Vicar on earth.
My responses no longer met the good Padre’s views; for he burst
out, ‘I eschew you as a Christian! You are an accursed heretic,
and shall burn hereafter in the everlasting fire of hell,’ and he
raved in his excitement.
I interposed, ‘Judge not, lest ye be judged. Condemn not, lest
ye be condemned;’ adding, with a smile, ‘you have declared that
you believe I shall go to hell and suffer eternal punishment. Now,
I declare my belief that you, for your good works and charity, will
go to heaven, and there I hope to meet you. You see I have the more
charity, since you have cursed me; but I say, God will bless you. I
return good for evil, as taught by our Saviour. If you inquire,’
I continued, ‘regarding the belief of the members of the Church
of England, to which I belong, or of Protestants in general, as you
call us, you will find that we have the same moral laws as the Roman
Catholics, and that the livery alone and the outward forms separate
us from the Roman Catholic Church.’ So saying, I held out my hand
to the good old fanatic, repeating, ‘You shall be blessed for your
charity and kindness to all men.’
He took my hand in silence, and I bade him adieu.
Throughout these troubled times Mr. Hay rode daily, unattended, on
the beach or in the country. One afternoon, when riding along the
narrow road leading outside the town walls to the sea, he encountered
an armed tribe coming in to join the forces then bound for the Tetuan
district, the seat of war. As he passed quietly through them, one of
the men, cursing him for an infidel, spat at him. Mr. Hay at once
retaliated by bringing his heavy hunting crop sharply down on the
head of the offender, abusing him roundly the while.
In a moment the long guns of those who witnessed the occurrence
were brought to their knees, and he heard the click of the clumsy
flint-locks as they cocked their pieces.
Undaunted, he cried, ‘Shame on you, that would call yourselves
men! Cowards, go and fight with women!’
Some of the elders, who were rather in the rear, observing the pause
and disturbance, hurried forward and checked the excited tribesmen,
and Mr. Hay, turning to them, said, ‘It is most unseemly and
unworthy of the warriors of your race that these young men should
attack an unarmed and unoffending individual. Is it for these youths
to insult and abuse me, an Englishman, and the friend of the Moors?’
The elders soundly rated the offenders, and offered to bastinado, then
and there, the chief culprit, which Mr. Hay however declined. They
then frankly apologised, pleading that the men were under the
influence of great excitement at the prospect of fighting the
Spaniards, else they would never have behaved so ill to the
‘Ingliz,’ their friend. The weapons were lowered, and Mr. Hay
rode through the midst of the horde, who made way for him quietly.
When peace was finally concluded, in 1860, it was in great measure
due to Mr. Hay’s intervention. All the variations between hope
and fear are chronicled in his letters home.
At last, on March 29, he is able to write:—
Thank God! on the 25th preliminaries were signed. _Entre nous_,
though Spaniards continue to rave against me, it was I who got this
Government to agree to peace after a hard-fought battle in the plain
of Tetuan.
Altogether this period had been for him a time of great anxiety. His
troubles were increased by a sharp attack of what is now known as
‘Russian influenza,’ which prostrated him just when affairs
were in the most critical condition. He fought against the malady,
however, in his anxiety to secure peace; but when his family returned
to Tangier they found that the illness had left him with snow-white
beard and moustache, who before had not a gray hair.
The three letters that follow were written from Meknes during a
mission undertaken by Mr. Hay to the Moorish Court with the object
of inducing the Sultan to concede the demands of Spain, and to place
the peace just concluded between the two countries on a firm basis.
As will be seen, great difficulties arose with regard to the
payment of the indemnity claimed by Spain. The Sultan had asked
the British Government to guarantee a loan, to which request they
could not accede. During his sojourn at Meknes, Mr. Hay received
a proposal from Mr. Forde, a British merchant, to raise a loan in
England at 10 per cent., provided the British Government would make
a convention with the Moorish Government by which the interests of
the shareholders in the proposed loan would be safeguarded by the
British Government. This matter was not concluded when Mr. Hay left
Meknes, as much depended on the attitude taken by Spain. He writes
to his mother from Meknes on July 18, 1861:—
Here we are! all well and not even fatigued by our journey. We have
had a triumphal march through the country, and had I been the Sultan
himself, more honour and respect could not have been shown me.
Not an unkind word has been heard from high or low. The General
Officer sent by the Sultan to Tangier to escort us is the third
military dignitary in the Empire. All the governors and chiefs who
met us were under his authority, and the good fellow told me he was
ordered by the Sultan to attend upon me and to meet my wishes as
if I were the Sultan himself. He and I have made great friends. He
said, ‘When I received the Sultan’s order to take charge of the
Mission, I thought I should have to take care of pots of china, which
would crack or break at the first jolt, and that I might therefore
be ruined by some accident; but I find I have to deal with men who
have kind and stout hearts.’
I will not tell you of the thousands of wild fellows—cavalry and
infantry—who have saluted us on the road, but will merely describe
our reception this morning.
We left our last encampment, called Kasba Faráo, at 4 a.m., escorted
by the Governor of Sherarda with about 1,200 cavalry.
At 5.30 we were met by the wild tribe of Zerhóna, shouting and
firing. I do not believe they meant to offend us in any way, but,
on the contrary, to welcome us in this boisterous manner; but our
old Kaid declared that no man should shout or fire again till I had
passed. The Zerhóna objected, as they said they wished to honour me
face to face. I should mention that they are of Rif origin, and fight
better than all the other tribes put together. A dispute took place,
and then the order was given to the cavalry to surround our party. In
a moment we found ourselves surrounded by the 1,200 cavalry; the
chiefs of Sherarda declaring that they would ride down the Zerhóna
if the slightest insult were offered. All passed off quietly.
At 7 a.m. mounted officers arrived, sent from the capital by the
Sultan to welcome us. At 8 o’clock, about four miles from the town,
the Kaid-el-Meshwa, the first military officer of the court, met us,
and we beheld a line of about 15,000 cavalry and 18,000 infantry[41],
with banners flying, ranged along the heights surrounding the
town. Along these lines we passed, and I was presented to all the
governors, generals, and other dignitaries. A _feu de joie_ was
fired repeatedly along the lines.
The Governor of Meknes arrived in state to receive us, also a relation
of the Sultan; and the late Ambassador to London, with another Moorish
officer, came out to welcome us, and to say that they were ordered
by the Sultan to attend upon us during our sojourn at the court.
All the shops were shut; the whole population lined the wall.
We are lodged in a large and handsome house, with a fountain in the
centre of the court. The walls are in Arabesque filagree, the floors
in glazed tiles. The house is lofty, and has a second story. The
rooms are magnificently furnished with carpets, mirrors, clocks,
beds, and velvet and cloth tapestries.
The provisions are profuse, never have I eaten such bread; and,
strange to say, the butter is delicious.
The ex-Ambassador waits below to learn our wishes, the General
Officer to act as chief guard. _Too much_ has been done, and it
almost makes me feel sad, as I know how little we can do to help them,
and what a bitter pill I have to offer as the remedy to be taken to
save the Empire.
_July 22_, 1861.
This morning we had a public audience of the Sultan.
One of the chief officers of the royal household, with a guard of
honour, was dispatched by the Sultan to this residence to conduct us
to the palace. We proceeded on horseback, and threading the winding
and narrow streets of this town, which had been well watered for
the occasion, we arrived at the beautiful and picturesque gate of
the castle built by Sultan Mulai Ismael about two centuries ago. On
entering the gate we passed through lines of troops, placed on each
side of the passage conducting to the great court, or ‘Meshwa,’ of
the palace. This court, a mere walled enclosure, is about 200 yards
long and 120 broad. Around it were arranged some 2,500 infantry,
amongst whom I observed about 500 men drilled in the European style.
We were conducted to the centre of the court and there dismounted. A
chair, which I declined, was offered to me whilst awaiting the
Sultan’s arrival. Immediately in the rear of where we had been
placed stood the chief dignitaries and officers of the Sultan’s
court. A few minutes after our arrival, the chief Uzir came out from
the gate of the palace and, after salutations had passed between
us, placed himself in the centre of the line of officers standing
in our rear. The Uzir was followed by the ‘Kaid-el-Meshwa,’
or High Chamberlain, of the Sultan’s court. A few moments after,
from the gate facing our party, the Sultan, mounted on a magnificent
white horse, entered the court. His Majesty was preceded by five
led horses splendidly caparisoned, then came two officers carrying
very long lances: these men were followed by a number of officers on
foot, ranged on each side of His Majesty. Amongst them I observed
the Chief Executioner—wearing a broad sword—and the bearer of
the Sultan’s gun.
His Sherifian Majesty was dressed all in white, and wore a
‘burnous’ with large silken tufts on the hood—these tufts
being the sole mark of the Sovereign.
As His Majesty entered the court, the Master of the Horse shouted in
a loud voice to the officers and troops, ‘Our lord says, May God
assist you.’ All the line of officers in our rear, Uzir included,
kneeling, bowed their heads to the ground, and the troops, bending
low, raised a shout of ‘May God prolong the life of our lord.’
This was repeated twice.
His Majesty, having advanced to within thirty yards of where we stood,
waved to us with his hand to advance, which I and the other gentlemen
did, after making our bows, till I stood within a yard of His
Majesty’s horse. The interpreter, Mr. David Sicsu, accompanied us;
as on such occasions it is etiquette to speak through an interpreter.
Formal speeches were then exchanged and the Sultan withdrew. The
letter continues:—
The horse is the throne of the Sultan of Morocco, who is the
descendant and representative of the prophet Mohammed and of those
Kaliphs who, rallying from the deserts of Arabia on their swift
horses, conquered such vast and fair portions of Africa, Asia,
and Europe.
The fact of the Sultan having mounted a milk-white horse is meant to
be emblematic of peace and goodwill. When His Majesty is displeased
he rides a black horse, and according to the royal humour he is said
to vary the shade of the steed he mounts.
_July 28_, 1861.
We have not made much progress in negotiation, for the war
party is strong here, and the Sultan feels very strongly his past
humiliations. I have had one or two battles with the chief Uzir, and
he now openly declares that he takes my view of the whole question,
whatever may be the decision of the Sultan.
We continue to be feasted, and are rather bored thereby, for they
fix on the late hour of 10 p.m. to commence festivities, and there
is a great monotony; illuminations, Moorish music, tea and cakes.
The houses are most beautiful, fountains bubble all around, and the
scene is a fairy one.
Princely honours are paid me everywhere, the population being
compelled to stand up as I pass, in fact I am exceedingly bored by
all these attentions and forms.
We have our prayers on Sunday; it is perhaps the first little
gathering of Christians that ever prayed together at Meknes.
_July 30._
I have just returned from a long private interview with the Sultan. He
has not conceded Spanish terms, for he has not the money, and,
therefore, to say he would give what he has not, would only make
matters worse; but he agrees to send an Ambassador to Madrid to
treat. To persuade him to do this was one of the chief objects of
my mission.
Thus far we have succeeded.
Sultan is very kind, says much that is flattering, and laughs and
talks with me.
Tangier, _August 20_, 1861.
We have arrived here, all well.
I succeeded in obtaining Sultan’s consent to all demands the British
Government desired me to put forward; so, if Spain keeps good faith,
all will be settled.
With the object of bringing negotiations to a conclusion, Mr. Hay
subsequently paid a short visit to Rabát, where the Sultan was
then staying. After his return to Tangier he writes on October 23
to his mother:—
The Sultan is at Rabát, and my object was to have a chat with him. He
received me very kindly, and privately, as I had requested. He
agreed to all I suggested, and even told his Uzir that his duty
would be to listen to what I proposed, and then to act at once on
my recommendations.
His Sultanic Majesty was in good spirits, scolded me good-humouredly
for not writing to him, told me he looked upon me as his best
counsellor and friend, and he therefore expected I should write to
him, not only what was agreeable, but also what was disagreeable,
as he said thus alone he could learn the truth.
I was lodged sumptuously. I refused all presents, but accepted for
Commander Nicolas a splendid sword mounted in gold which the Sultan
sent him through me.
I begin to feel almost nervous about the blind confidence placed in
me by the Sultan. I happened to mention to the Uzir that one of the
governors of a port was an ‘imbecile.’ Next morning I was informed
that the Sultan said my opinion sufficed, and he was dismissed from
office. A Jew had been robbed and put in prison by a governor. I
mentioned it. Orders were given for restoration of the property,
and the governor is sent for by the Sultan, which is equivalent to
imprisonment. I must think twice before I speak to these folk.
There are sad delays in England about the loan, but I am working hard.
Finally, in January, 1862, in virtue of a convention between Her
Majesty the Queen and the Emperor of Morocco, the loan was issued in
bonds amounting to £501,200. The terms of the payment were that half
of the custom’s duties were to be hypothecated as security, Her
Majesty undertaking to appoint Commissioners to receive the customs
duties. The Consuls and consular agents at the various ports were
directed to act as these commissioners, and the moneys so collected
were delivered to the British Representative to be transferred by
him to the contractors in London.
At the time the loan was issued, the customs duties were assessed
as follows:—
Imports paying 10 per cent £91,676
Exports paying 25 per cent 231,228
--------
Total £322,904
It was expected that this sum would be increased by a duty on
exportation of wheat and barley, which would have added another
£100,000, raising the total to be paid to the contractors to
£211,452[42].
The other moiety of the customs duties was paid to the Spanish
Government to cover the remainder of the war indemnity—they also
appointing Commissioners.
When the loan was finally paid off in 1883, the returns were—
Exports £832,212
Imports 807,536
----------
Total £1,639,748
as against £322,904, quoted in 1862. This increase was attributable,
not only to larger commerce, but also to the improved system
introduced at the customs which Mr. Hay persuaded the Sultan to
adopt. Hitherto the officials, as was common in Morocco, were a
permanent unpaid staff, who were supposed to pay themselves by
subtracting a percentage from the duties levied. Under the new
system supervisors were appointed, who received a fixed salary, and
these officials were changed every three months. This reform worked
well. It at once materially increased the revenue derived from customs
duties, and, after the loan and war indemnity were paid off in 1883,
the Custom House officers continued to be appointed and paid on the
same system.
Mr. Hay’s services were recognised by Her Majesty’s Government,
and he writes to his wife’s sister in May, 1862:—
I received a telegram a few days ago from the Minister,
congratulating me on my nomination to the K.C.B. I am pleased,
as Government recognises so handsomely my labours; and, after all
the abuse of the Spanish Press, and even of the Spanish Government,
it is a public acknowledgement that I have done some good in the
cause of peace and goodwill. My ambition is now nigh satisfied,
and I am quite content if this is the last handle I get to my name.
I am rather troubled with inflamed or weak eyes. I have perhaps
strained them at night. I have given up reading almost entirely,
and only write to earn my bread, or to retain the affections of
those I love.
This eye trouble had its origin, no doubt, in the attack of
influenza from which he had suffered in 1859, accompanied as it was by
overstrain and work. It was further aggravated by his hurried journey
to Meknes in the great heat of summer. For many years he continued to
suffer, and, by the advice of eminent oculists in London and Paris,
gave up all reading and writing. All his letters and dispatches
were written from his dictation. Though towards the latter part of
his life Sir John in great measure recovered the use of his eyes,
he was always unable to read much at night, and thus endured what
to him was a great deprivation.
The following extract from the _Gibraltar Chronicle_ of July 21,
1883, concludes the history of the Moorish loan.
We are informed that a letter has been lately addressed to the
Secretary of the Stock Exchange by Messrs. Robinson and Fleming,
the contractors of the Moorish loan of 1862, notifying its
final settlement last month. The text of the communication is as
follows:—‘It affords us great pleasure to hand you enclosed
the official announcement of the payment off at par, on June 26,
1883, of the total amount of the undrawn Bonds of the Loan of His
Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Morocco. We take this opportunity of
stating that His Majesty has been careful to observe the provisions
of the contract upon which the loan was issued, and we further beg
to observe that Her Britannic Majesty’s Minister at Morocco, Sir
J. H. Drummond Hay, K.C.B., has most kindly rendered, voluntarily and
continually, his valuable services in all details connected with the
loan.’ In further speaking of this loan it was observed that it
is one of the only loans where no hitch of any kind had occurred,
and where perfect good faith had been shown. That such has been
the case all credit should be given to the Sultan, but we may also
observe that the Moorish Government has been so carefully watched
and kept up to the mark in its payments by our energetic Minister,
that they have had no opportunity of falling into arrears. The loan
was not a very big one, but the amount of detail work caused by the
smallest of loans to a country such as Morocco is much greater than
is generally imagined. From the first, however, the superintendence
of it was undertaken by Sir John Drummond Hay without any benefit
or remuneration to himself, and it has been carried through with
the thoroughness which has marked throughout his long public career
every measure to which he has put his hand.