THIRD MISSION TO MARÁKESH.
In 1863 Sir John went to the Court at the city of Marákesh on a
special mission from Her Majesty’s Government, with the object of
obtaining certain concessions and privileges. In this mission he
was in great part successful, though many of the promises made to
him to introduce improvements and reforms never passed beyond words.
The following year, 1864, saw Sir John again in attendance at the
Court, which was then at Rabát. From that city he writes to his
mother on October 16:—
I arrived here on the 28th ult., having passed a week on the road,
and had good sport with small game.
The Sultan did not enter Rabát till the 13th inst., having been
detained en route in ‘eating up’ some rebel tribes, some of the
latter causing him several days of uneasy digestion.
The night before His Majesty’s entry into Rabát, the Uzir tells me,
the Sultan woke up about 11 o’clock and summoned him. It was to ask
whether the Uzir thought I would like to see His Majesty enter, and
if so to bid him write off and invite me to witness the scene from a
good position, where a guard of honour would be stationed to protect
us from the wild hordes, or, if I so pleased, to meet and have an
audience of His Majesty in the midst of his troops before he entered.
As a true courtier, I chose the latter course, and, having put on
our armour, we sallied out at 9 a.m. to meet the Sultan.
As usual on such festive occasions, it poured buckets. I was well
covered, but not so were the members of my mission, who looked in
their uniforms and feathers like drowned cocks.
Adjoining the outer walls of Rabát, which are about a mile from the
town, there is a beautiful plain of red sand, with small undulating
hills here and there, and covered with palmettos, shrubs, and wild
flowers. The vanguard of the army, which latter consisted of about
30,000 men, was already in sight, and picturesque groups of the
irregular cavalry had stationed themselves on these heights, as,
I suppose, pickets acting as a sort of police to the wild hordes
that followed.
The rain ceased, and the sun broke out as the Royal cortège
appeared. The disciplined troops, a body of about 6,000 infantry,
dressed in scarlet jackets and blue trousers, marched in parallel
columns, leaving a space of about a quarter of a mile between each
column. The disciplined cavalry, some 500 strong, riding in front
and rear and on the flanks to keep order. Within the lines came the
tribes, each forming a separate body and marching with some sort
of regularity, banners flying and pipes squealing, as if they had
been Highlanders.
Then followed some mules and camels with field guns and ammunition,
and, after these, bodies of the Sultan’s Bokhári, or Royal
guard. Troops of forty or fifty of these every now and then wheeling
back and charging towards the group that surrounded the Sultan,
fired their guns in the air.
His Majesty was preceded by a body of running footmen; then came the
Chief Usher, followed by two men on foot bearing long lances—the
last and sole signs of ancient Moorish chivalry; then the Sultan
himself, mounted on a beautiful grey horse, a monster for a Barb,
being not less than seventeen hands high. Behind His Majesty were
the umbrella-bearer and the sword-bearer, followed at a little
distance by the Ministers of State, mounted on mules, and by a
palanquin covered with scarlet cloth borne between two mules. It
was all closed, so there may have been some houri within.
As the Sultan drew near, the troops of Rabát, with the Governor at
their head, approached, forming a most brilliant line, in dresses
of all the colours of the rainbow adorned with gold and silver. His
Majesty wheeled his horse, broke through the lines of infantry,
and rode towards the newcomers. Down went the Mussulmen with their
heads in the dust, the Governor playing fugleman, and then raised
themselves, crying, ‘Long live our Lord and Master!’
The Sultan raised his hands towards heaven, and called a blessing
on his townspeople of Rabát.
We stood a little to the right of the Rabátin: His Majesty, instead
of awaiting our approach, and to the astonishment of all fanatics,
turned right back and rode towards us. We advanced until I was close
to His Majesty, my suite a little behind, and the Minister for Foreign
Affairs by my side. Down went his Excellency in the dust, and I took
off my hat and made a bow. The Sultan, who is the _ne plus ultra_
of stammerers, tried to make a gracious speech, but stuck at the word
‘Mahabábek’ (welcome). I took pity and made him a short speech,
which he received with a smile such as the Rabátin declare he never
bestowed on _them_.
This ceremony being over, His Majesty again took up his position in
the procession, and the march was resumed.
I should mention that several bands of the disciplined troops were
playing European marches; some, really well.
The Minister for Foreign Affairs then suggested that we should
keep away from the crowd; but His Majesty dispatched another of his
Ministers to invite me to enter his cortège—and to give a wigging
to our chaperon, the Foreign Minister, for not having asked me what
I should prefer to do. The scene was so interesting, and indeed the
most picturesque and strange I had ever witnessed, that I gladly
accepted the offer, and we rode in the cortège to the palace. As
the Sultan entered the palace doors, we could hear the ‘lu, lu,
lu’ (the hallelujahs) of the women. I had a short interview with
the Uzir, and then took my leave.
The Mohammedans are much surprised at the Sultan’s gracious
reception of me in the midst of his wild troops. I believe it was a
political move as well as an act of courtesy, and that, in entering
Rabát with his hordes, where several of the Foreign Representatives
are expected, he desired to set them an example of how to treat the
Nazarenes. It has had its effect, for we have not even overheard
the word ‘kaffer’ (infidel) muttered. Strict orders have been
given, and due punishment threatened, I hear, for any offence towards
a Christian.
The Uzir has returned my visit of ceremony, and now my work begins. As
I told the Uzir, I come to see them as a friendly doctor, to offer
advice for health and happiness, but that like most medicines, mine
are bitter and unpalatable. We shall see what I shall be enabled
to do.
This country is in such a rotten state that though the Sultan be
a clever and good man, anxious for reform, he has not the courage
nor the _men_ about him to carry it into execution. To give you an
idea of his intelligence, an English engineer, Fairlie yclept, who
is in His Sultanic Majesty’s service, tells me he lately erected a
steam-engine in Marákesh. The Sultan watched him at work, and after
one lesson told Fairlie to have fires lit and direct everybody to go
away. Fairlie could not imagine what was going to happen, for he saw
carpets and cushions and paniers of food pouring into the building
where the engine-room was. The next morning he learnt that His Majesty
had invited all the royal ladies to a picnic, set the engine working,
and had some fun with his harem, terrifying them by turning off steam,
&c. Fairlie says the man is naturally an engineer—he is certainly
as black as any stoker.
We expect the French and Spanish Ministers, frigates, &c., so Rabát
will, I fear be for a time a focus of intrigues.
You will say ‘jam satis’ of Morocco!
The practice of ‘eating up’ mentioned in this letter has always
been a favourite method with the Sultans of Morocco when desirous
of quelling discontent or rebellion amongst the unruly tribes of
the interior. If these in any part of the Moorish dominions, driven
frantic by the cruelty and extortion of their rulers, show signs of
revolt, an army is sent, like a plague of locusts, who literally eat
up the disaffected country. In the case of the larger districts, such
as Sus, these military expeditions are often commanded by the Sultan
in person. Crops are devoured or destroyed, heavy fines levied, and
sometimes villages sacked and burnt. When all the provisions in the
district are consumed, the army moves off, leaving behind starvation
and desolation, and a people often too broken-spirited to think again,
for many years to come, of revolt. Sometimes, however, amongst the
martial tribes in the interior, who enjoy the protection afforded
them by living in a mountainous district, the Sultan finds the task
of quelling a rebellion a difficult one, and eventually retires with
his army, having only succeeded in fomenting the discontent of his
subjects against his rule.
In 1868 the question of the exchange of Gibraltar for Ceuta was
raised, and a letter to the _Times_ from Admiral Grey, a former
Senior Naval Officer at Gibraltar, caused much discussion of the
subject by the press: the general feeling in England being against
such an exchange.
Writing to Sir Henry Layard in 1871, Sir John gives his opinion upon
the question at issue:—
I think it is the interest, and ought to be the policy, of Great
Britain to maintain friendly relations with Spain. I am even one of
those unwise men, who would like to see Gibraltar restored to Spain,
and thus extract a thorn which festers in the heart of every proud
Spaniard—a sentiment I do not blame.
I am told by important military and even naval men, that Gibraltar
would be worthless in war time as a port of refuge. In the present
state of gunnery, nothing could live there, either on land or water,
unless under a bomb-proof roof, so we should be compelled to have an
iron fleet to protect 6,000 men, cooped up. _Cui bono!!_ If we could
find a _quid pro quo_ suitable as a coaling station in time of peace
in these waters, I say the sooner we make terms with Spain the better.
Sir John always declared that, from a military point of view, he was
no judge of the question; but as a diplomatist he strongly advocated
the exchange of Gibraltar for Ceuta. Our possession of the Rock being
most bitterly distasteful to our national ally Spain, he maintained
that by occupying Ceuta in its stead we should conciliate the Spanish
nation. He was of opinion that so long as Gibraltar should remain in
our hands, no friendly footing could be established between the two
countries. Spain, though unable alone to take the fortress from us,
would certainly ally herself with our enemies in case of a European
war in order to recover this stronghold.
The Moors, on the other hand, would welcome the presence of Great
Britain on their coasts, not only as a safeguard to their national
independence, but as a guarantee against the encroachments of their
hereditary enemies the Spaniards, whose desire to increase their
possessions at the cost of Morocco is a constant terror to the Moors.
The objections which might be raised by other Foreign Powers to such
an exchange could be met by Great Britain undertaking not to attempt
to increase her territory in Morocco beyond what would be acquired
from Spain, and further to maintain the integrity of Morocco as an
independent and strictly neutral State.
Great Britain, once established in a stronghold on the shores of
Morocco, and relieved from the jealousy and ill-feeling of Spain,
would be able to insist on the reforms so necessary in Morocco, and
could bring pressure to bear on the Moorish Government to open up
trade, and to permit the exploitation of the immense mineral wealth
of the country. Coal, as is well known, is to be found on the Straits
Coast, though foreign jealousy, as much as the retrogressive policy
of the Moorish Government, has hitherto impeded the working of that
and other minerals.
As a coal store for the Royal and mercantile marine, as a dockyard
for the refitting of vessels, as a free port for the storage of
merchandise, Ceuta would offer the same advantages as Gibraltar
in time of peace. As a dépôt for trade with Barbary, it would
obviously possess many advantages over the Rock. Nor was this last
argument to be despised, when the immense resources of Morocco as
a grain-producing country are considered. Her granary is capable of
supplying Great Britain with wheat, which could be exported by sea
more quickly and cheaply than from elsewhere, and would in a measure
relieve the United Kingdom from the risk that, in time of European
war, some of the important grain marts of the world may be closed
to her.
In case of war, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to
victual Gibraltar, as Spain would undoubtedly stop all supplies
from entering the fortress from the mainland. No such contingency,
on the other hand, could threaten our hold on Ceuta, where plentiful
supplies would be available from the mainland both for the use of
the garrison and for provisioning the fleet. At Ceuta British ships
would find a harbour of refuge in a friendly and neutral country,
without being exposed, as they might well be at Gibraltar, to the
guns of the enemy on the Spanish coast, and could pass the Straits
in safety without approaching within range of a Spanish fortress.
That there would be many and great difficulties in the way of such
an exchange was foreseen by Sir John. Not the least of these is the
immense expenditure on the fortification of the Rock. This, however,
he thought might be met by Spain undertaking to make the necessary
alterations and repairs at Ceuta, and, pending the completion of
these works, agreeing to allow Great Britain the use of Gibraltar
for her ships as heretofore in time of peace or war.
The harbour of Ceuta, in its present state, does not offer the
same advantages as that of Gibraltar; but Sir John believed that
it was capable of such improvements as would render it thoroughly
efficient. Though great expense would be incurred by Great Britain,
he thought that the stability which such an exchange would give to
the maintenance of the peace of Europe was deserving of consideration.
Finally, it may be remembered that Lord Nelson used to say our naval
success in the South of Europe would depend on the friendship of
Morocco, or on our obtaining possession of Tangier. He foresaw that
any great Power established on a sure footing on the North African
coast would practically command the passage of the Straits for
seventy miles.
Such were some of the reasons which weighed most strongly with Sir
John. His long residence in Morocco, and his genuine interest in
its prosperity, led him to advocate the exchange, not merely for the
advantage of Great Britain, but also for the benefit of the Moors. He
saw in the occupation of Ceuta a means of promoting the welfare of
the Sultan’s subjects, and a powerful instrument for pressing upon
the Government the reforms for which he so constantly pleaded. In
1865 Sultan Sid Mohammed had introduced certain changes; but these
attempts at improvement were too timid to produce any real result.
Three years later (1868), Sir John visited the Sultan’s Court at
Fas, and he took every opportunity, afforded by frequent private
audiences, of again urging upon his Majesty the necessity of sweeping
changes in the judicial, financial, and administrative system of
the country.
In a letter written to Sir Henry Layard he speaks of the outspoken
advice which he was in the habit of offering to the Sultan, and
attributes to his frankness the influence which he enjoyed at the
Moorish Court.
This Government is the most _miserable_ in the world, and with the
exception of the Sultan himself, who is an honest man without energy,
Aji, and one or two others, they are a corrupt and venal set. As long,
however, as I am accredited to such a Government, I have thought it
my duty to keep on the best terms with all. . . .
Not only my Spanish colleagues, but I may say all in their turn,
attribute the good favour in which I am held by the Sultan and his
myrmidons to my giving secret counsels in opposition to the demands
of Representatives of other Foreign Governments, and thus currying
favour. They cannot and will not understand that I have managed
to maintain a certain ascendency over the mind of the Sultan,
in questions with other Foreign Powers, from the very fact of my
never having hesitated in speaking my mind and recommending the most
unpalatable concessions. The late Sultan, as also the present, found
that when they had not accepted my disinterested advice, troubles
ensued and they paid dearly. I therefore still hold my ground at the
Court, though Morocco has found itself on more than one occasion,
as in the last Spanish war, abandoned by England.
The reception of the Mission on arrival at Fas was most cordial,
and the usual great show of troops and powder-play was made. A very
beautiful house, splendidly furnished, with a small garden attached,
was assigned to the Minister and his suite; and the first repast
was placed on the table in the dining-room as Sir John entered the
house. It consisted of an immense bowl of milk, and a huge dish
of dates, which had been sent direct from the Sultan’s palace,
with a message to the effect that it was a token of welcome always
offered to Moorish princes—and to them only—on their arrival in
a Royal city. A curious form of hospitality, evidently a survival
from the custom which prevailed among the Arabs in olden time.
This was the first occasion on which ladies had joined any Mission
to the Sultan’s Court; Mrs. Drummond Hay accompanied her husband,
then Sir John’s secretary, the elder Miss Hay being also of the
party. As Christian women had hitherto never entered Fas—except
as captives, in the days of the Barbary pirates—the population was
both excited and amused by their apparition, as they walked through
the bazaars and streets of the town, or rode in the environs with
the gentlemen of the party. It was necessary for them always to be
accompanied by an escort of native soldiers, to keep off the crowds
that thronged in the streets to gaze at the strangers; but no rudeness
or unpleasantness of any kind was ever met with. When riding in the
pretty country about Fas, this mounted escort—consisting generally
of six troopers—found that they could not keep pace with the
Europeans, and were replaced by half a dozen Berber horsemen. These
small wiry mountaineers, riding active ponies, were prepared to dash
along at any pace over the roughest ground.
The Moorish Ministers, some of whom had visited European courts,
invited the presence of the ladies at all the banquets and receptions
offered to the Mission; admitting them also to the harems, where
they were well received by the Fas ladies, wives of the principal
Ministers. These ladies differ in some degree from their countrywomen
in other towns. Amongst persons of high rank, a certain amount
of social intercourse takes place, and men and women meet as in
Europe. But these gatherings are conducted in strict secrecy, for
fear of rousing scandal. The ladies of Fas, therefore, are more
enlightened and pleasant than their sisters elsewhere. Many of them
are well educated, according to Moorish lights, and materially assist
their husbands or fathers in official or literary work.
The public audience of the Sultan took place, according to custom,
three days after the arrival of the Mission. The English ladies were
especially invited to be present. The ceremony was the same as that
described in Sir John’s letter to his mother in 1861—with the
exception that the ladies were placed, in charge of several officers,
under an arch near where the ‘Bashador’ stood with his staff. From
this point they had a good view of the ceremony; but they were not a
little amused at the veiled anxiety shown by their guardians—not
that they should see, but rather be seen of, the Sultan. H.S.M.,
on his part, made a graceful allusion to their presence at the end
of his formal speech to Sir John, saying, ‘It has given us great
pleasure to observe that you have brought with you some members of
your family: this is a fresh proof of your confidence in us and in
our people. They are very welcome.’
In speaking thus, the Sultan made the closest approach which Moorish
etiquette allowed towards referring to the ladies of the party. In
Morocco, the females of a man’s household are never directly
mentioned, but are spoken of collectively, as ‘the family,’
or, more commonly, ‘the house’; and, in this form, are most
punctiliously inquired after by Moors, when exchanging salutations
with their friends or acquaintances. Though, according to Western
ideas, this custom appears to imply contempt of the weaker sex,
it originates rather from the fact that the Moors reject, as
an impertinence, any direct reference to the women whom they so
carefully seclude.
Almost immediately after the public audience, Sir John fell ill with
dysentery—brought on, the doctor believed, by drinking the water
of the Sebu river during the journey, and aggravated by the chill
and damp of Fas, which, lying high, and plentifully watered by the
river that traverses the city, was cold and not a healthy residence
in December. After more than a month’s stay, he was fortunately
sufficiently recovered to undertake the return journey.
During his stay in Fas, Sir John had several absolutely private
audiences with the Sultan, at which he reiterated all his former
arguments and suggestions. He pointed out that countries smaller than
Morocco—and with perhaps fewer resources—yet commanded greater
revenues, though their peoples were not over-taxed. In such countries
the security of property encouraged the natives in industrial
enterprises. No dread of confiscation prevented the accumulation
of wealth; and the justice and integrity of the administrative and
judicial system made the inhabitants happy, prosperous, and contented.
In the Sultan’s dominions it was, as Sir John urged, the want
of similar security which impoverished the people and emptied the
exchequer. It was the tyranny and venality of officials that drove
many of his subjects to redress their own wrongs by robbery, raids,
and rebellion, and impelled others to shelter themselves from
exactions and mis-government by becoming partners with European
traders—who, by treaty stipulations, enjoyed immunity from
taxation—and, under their protection, to rob the Sultan’s treasury
by evading the payment of exorbitant and irregularly enforced taxes.
[Illustration: RECEPTION BY SULTAN SID MOHAMMED]
The system of the payment of Custom House officers, inaugurated
in 1860, was dwelt on by Sir John in support of his argument. He
suggested that adequate salaries should be paid to all Government
officials, who would thus be deprived of excuse for peculation, and,
if they proved dishonest or extortionate, might be punished without
mercy. He recommended a great reduction of the army, and, in order
to check false returns, urged that proper lists of the troops still
enrolled should be carefully drawn up. He proposed that authorised
tax-gatherers should be appointed and the whole population equally
taxed without exemption of Sherífs or of Government officials; that
the payment of taxes should be strictly enforced; that tax-gatherers
should only hold office for a year, so that the incoming official
might act as a check on the proceedings of his predecessor; that the
supervisors of markets should be required to deposit a certain sum as
security before taking office, this sum to be forfeited if they were
convicted of malpractices. He also recommended the entire abolition
of the system of presents, and urged that all officials, from the
Sultan downwards, should be strictly forbidden to accept gifts.
If these reforms were introduced, Sir John assured the Sultan,
peace and prosperity would soon reign in Morocco, and his empire
would rise in the scale of nations.
It was not till the middle of December that Sir John left Fas on
his homeward journey. The last camp before reaching Tangier should
have been by the side of the river Mishra el Hashef. In summer this
is a mere stream; in winter, when Sir John arrived at its bank,
it was swollen into a deep and turbulent torrent. The previous week
some Moorish soldiers had attempted to cross, and several of them
were carried away and drowned in the flood; but the Arabs, who live
near the banks, declared that, by waiting, the party might risk a
detention of several days; though, on the other hand, the flood might
decrease in a few hours. At present they believed it could be swum
in safety. Sir John, always impatient of delay, and anxious moreover
to catch the mail from Tangier next morning, decided on starting,
and plunged into the river on his horse. Two powerful Arab swimmers
accompanied him, swimming in an upright position just down stream of
the rider. Horse and men were carried by the current some distance
down, to a difficult landing place on the muddy banks. Here they
reached the opposite side in safety, though the water had washed
over the saddle. Miss Hay followed in the same manner and, with her
father, galloped off towards Tangier. Four hours’ hard riding saw
them under their own roof.