JOÃO, THE PORTUGUESE GUNSMITH.
On the journey from Tangier to Fas, about three days’ march from
the former place, the Mission passed through the town of El Ksar,
near which is the famous battle-field where the Portuguese King,
Don Sebastian, was killed in 1578. In connection with this battle
Sir John wrote the following story.
During one of my hunting expeditions as a young man, I was surprised
to see that one of the Moorish hunters, a noted marksman, named
Ali Bufra, possessed a gun with a very long barrel of twisted iron,
upon which was engraved, in European characters, the words ‘João
Renauda, ano 1582.’
Ali was very proud of this weapon, maintaining that no gun barrel,
ancient or modern, could be compared to it. Curiosity has since
prompted me to inquire into the history and origin of this gun,
and from various sources I gathered the materials upon which I have
based the following tale.
Mulai Mohammed, Sultan of Fas, having been dethroned by his uncle,
Mulai Abdelmalek, fled to Lisbon, where he sought the assistance of
Don Sebastian, King of Portugal, to recover his throne.
King Sebastian, then a youth of twenty-two, and renowned for his
valour, moved by feelings of compassion and generosity towards the
unfortunate Sultan, and also by ambitious projects of conquest,
acceded to the petition of Mulai Mohammed, in opposition to the
advice of his mother, Queen Catherine, who had been Regent during
his long minority.
On June 25, 1578, King Sebastian assembled an army of 15,000 men at
Lagos, and a fleet to convey the troops. This fleet sailed to the
little port of Azaila, on the Atlantic coast, about twenty miles
south of Tangier, and on July 29 the army landed and encamped on
the ‘Sahel,’ or plain, six miles from Azaila.
Mulai Mohammed accompanied the army, having left his son at Lisbon as
hostage and guarantee of his good faith. He had led King Sebastian to
expect that a number of the Moorish tribes would join the Portuguese
army, but these expectations were not realised.
Mulai Abdelmalek, Sultan of Fas, had assembled near the town of El
Ksar an army of 40,000 cavalry, 10,000 infantry, and thirty-five
cannon, besides an auxiliary force of wild tribes from the mountains
of Beni Gorfet, Beni M’suar, &c. The Sultan was in bad health,
and, being unable to mount his horse, was carried on a litter. He
gave the command of the army to his brother, Mulai Ahmed.
On August 4 the Portuguese and Moorish forces met on the plain of
Tamista. Mulai Ahmed, seeing the inferiority in numbers of the
Portuguese forces, surrounded them, and began the attack on all
sides. King Sebastian and his nobles behaved with great valour; and
the King, though wounded at the commencement of the battle, charged
amongst the hordes of Moorish cavalry, with the hope of rallying his
troops scattered by the onslaught of the Moors. The King was slain,
as also the nobles who had joined in the charge. Sultan Abdelmalek
viewed from his litter the battle, and, though stricken with fever and
in a very weak state, mounted his horse, notwithstanding the efforts
made by his officers to dissuade him. The Sultan, who was then only
thirty-five years of age, anxious to share the glory of victory,
declared that he must perish either by the hand of the enemy or that
of God. He died on the field of battle from over-exertion. His death
was kept secret until victory was assured and proclaimed, and Mulai
Ahmed did not hear of the death of his brother until after the defeat
of the Portuguese.
Mulai Mohammed was drowned in the river ‘Mahazen’ during the
flight of the Portuguese army, most of whom were slain or made
prisoners. Don Sebastian was buried at El Ksar, whence, it is
said, his body was exhumed at the request of the King of Spain and
transferred to Ceuta. Mulai Ahmed was proclaimed Sultan of Fas.
João, a Portuguese gunsmith, was taken prisoner, together with
two companions, during the battle. Mulai Ahmed, now Sultan, gave
orders that the Christian prisoners, numbering about a thousand,
should be put to death or sold as slaves. Amongst the latter João
and two Portuguese soldiers fell to the lot of Sheikh Shashon,
Chief of the mountainous district of Beni M’suar, who dwelt in
the village of Tsemsalla, about fifteen miles from Tangier. In the
battle a brother of the Sheikh of Beni M’suar had been slain,
so the Sheikh vowed his Christian prisoners should die, and thus
avenge the death of his brother—blood for blood.
Cords were bound round the necks of João and his fellow-captives,
and, with their hands tied behind their backs, they were led
barefooted for two days over mountain passes until they reached Beni
M’suar. On arrival at the village of Tsemsalla, a crowd collected of
men, women, and children, who hooted and spat on the ‘infidels’
as they limped wearily on; the children crying out the old rhyme
of ‘E’ Nesára fi E’ Snara: El Yahúd fi E’ Sfud[43].’
(‘The Nazarenes to the hook: the Jews to the spit.’)
The Sheikh, to satisfy his feelings of revenge and those of his
followers who had taken part in the great battle, decided to make
the prisoners butts for shooting at with matchlocks, and notice was
given to the villagers that on the following day the shooting would
take place, so that every man who had lost a relative in the battle
with the cursed Nazarene could have ‘blood for blood.’
João had a stout heart, but it quailed when he beheld the scowling
countenances of the multitude who thronged around them, and he thought
of the morrow. Having lived some time at Tangier, at that period
in the possession of the Portuguese, he had picked up a smattering
of Arabic from the inhabitants, and he heard the announcement of
the cruel manner in which he was to meet his death, and felt that
there would not be an eye amongst the hundreds who witnessed it to
commiserate his cruel fate.
Iron fetters were fastened on João’s ankles, and locked with
a key which the Sheikh took. There was no prison in the village,
so two of the prisoners were cast, fettered, into a ‘matmor,’
or underground granary, closed by a large stone at the entrance,
and a guard was placed near it; but João, whose appearance and
manners showed he was of a better class, was imprisoned in a stable
adjoining the Sheikh’s dwelling.
Before the captives were led to their respective places of confinement
the women of the village were allowed to come and look upon the hated
Nazarenes; so, muffled in their white ‘haiks’—after the men
had withdrawn—they flocked around the wretched Portuguese. Many
uttered curses, thinking of their husbands, fathers, or brothers
who had been slain in the great battle; but João heard expressions
of pity proceeding from a group of women as they looked upon the
handsome young Nazarene condemned on the morrow to such a cruel death.
As night came on, João was put into the stable with a heavy chain
fastened to his fetters and to an iron stake driven deep into the
ground. A bowl of water, with some coarse bread made of ‘dra’
(millet) was placed within his reach. João, worn out with fatigue
from his long march, soon fell into a deep sleep: he dreamed that he
had been placed by the Sheikh as a target, and that the gun which was
aimed at his heart missed fire again and again, when he saw the figure
of a woman, looking like an angel in a white garment, standing behind
the Sheikh, and whenever the latter opened the pan of his flint-lock
to put in fresh priming, she sprinkled water on the powder. Raising
his arms in his sleep, João shouted out, ‘I die happy, for eyes
of pity are upon me!’ In doing this he woke with a start, and saw
the figure of a woman holding a green earthenware lamp. Bright eyes
gleamed through the muffled ‘haik,’ and he fancied he recognised
one of the women from whom he had heard expressions of pity. ‘It
must be a dream,’ thought João, so he rubbed his eyes; but still
the figure stood before him, and, in a trembling, sweet voice, said,
‘Nazarene! Do you believe in God and in the Day of Resurrection?’
João answered, ‘I believe.’
‘Trust then in Him,’ the figure continued; ‘He created Moslem
and Christian. He is merciful to those who believe in and love Him. I
seek to save you, Nazarene, from a cruel death. I shall never be
happy if “Baba” (my father) puts you to death to-morrow, as he
says he will, for you have eaten our bread. Baba takes counsel of no
man, and is very hard-hearted, but he is always kind to me, for I am
his only child. He has never denied me a favour; but when I begged
for mercy towards you, he replied, “Nazarenes are ‘kaffers’
(rebels against God); they do not believe in God and the last Day;
they are hateful in the sight of God and of all true believers, and
therefore are accursed. The prisoners must die.”’ So saying,
the gentle girl sobbed piteously; but after a pause continued,
‘Nazarene, you have a good, kind face. I feel certain you _must_
love God and that He loves you. Upon my head will be your blood if
I do not save you. It is past midnight and Baba is asleep; but as
I lay on my couch I could not rest, thinking of the cruel death
prepared for you to-morrow. Can you ride, Nazarene? Can you face
danger bravely?’ demanded she, her eyes flashing brightly from
under her ‘haik’ as she spoke.
João rubbed his eyes again to make sure it was not a dream. ‘I
can ride,’ he replied; ‘I have no fear of death, and I feel
happy now that a woman’s pity has fallen on me.’
‘See, Nazarene!’ she said, taking a key from her bosom, ‘this,
which I drew from beneath the pillow of my sleeping father, will
release you.’ So saying she bent and unlocked the fetters; then,
pointing to a saddle and bridle hanging in the stable, she continued,
‘Put those on the gray mare; she is the fastest animal in the
village. Here are my father’s spurs, and here is a “jelab”
to hide your Christian garb: follow the road you came by until out
of the village, then ride fast towards the setting stars. Why do
you hesitate? There is no time to be lost: the mare never fails,
and will have the speed over all pursuers. Gird on also this sword
which I have here concealed; it is my father’s trusty weapon.’
João shook his head and replied, ‘I cannot do what may bring you
into trouble, even to save my life.’
The girl stamped her little foot, saying, ‘Do at once as I direct,
or I shall hate you. Baba loves me dearly: he will not kill me. I
should never be happy again if you, our guest, were cruelly murdered
to-morrow.’
But João repeated, ‘I must not and cannot accept your offer. I
can die happily and bravely now, since I feel there will be one
gentle heart to pity me.’
The Sheikh’s daughter, trembling with emotion, exclaimed, ‘Are you
mad, Nazarene, that you reject the only chance of saving your life?’
‘Listen, sweet maiden,’ he replied, ‘never will I do that which
might expose you to the anger of your father; but I have a proposal
to make, which, if carried out, may ensure my safety. You say that
you have influence over your father: tell him to convey me at once,
a prisoner, to the Sultan, to whom I can render great service. Not
only will His Majesty employ me, but your father, by taking me to
the Court, will rise into high favour. I am João, the well-known
Portuguese gunsmith, who forges twisted barrels, a craft unknown in
Morocco. Before the battle so fatal to us Portuguese, your Sultan,
Mulai Abdelmalek, dispatched a secret messenger to Tangier, and
offered me a handsome sum of money and high wages if I would go to
Fas and enter his service. See,’ he continued, taking from the
breast-pocket of his coat a paper, ‘here is the Sultan’s own
signet with a recent date, which will vouch for the truth of what
I tell you. In the early morn, before your father leaves his couch,
go to him and say you found in the place where I was confined this
paper: let the Sheikh read it. The hope he may then entertain of
winning the Sultan’s favour should suffice to ensure my safety.’
‘Thanks be to the Almighty!’ said the maiden. ‘He is merciful
to those who trust in Him! I shall see my father before dawn and
show him the Sultan’s seal.’
‘Stay one moment,’ said João, ‘and relock my fetters, lest
your visit to me be suspected.’
As she stooped to relock the fetters the folds of the ‘haik’
fell from her head. She was young—about sixteen; her eyes were
dark blue, long black hair curled on her shoulders, her features
were regular, her complexion olive: slim, but not tall, she wore
a blue cloth caftan, embroidered with red and green silk, reaching
below her knees: around her waist was a broad silken sash: her feet
were bare. A coral necklace, silver bracelets and earrings were her
only ornaments. Smiling and blushing, she caught up her ‘haik’
to hide her face.
‘Oh, maiden,’ said João, ‘prithee let me know the name of
one who has sought to save my life.’
As she turned hurriedly to depart she said, ‘My name is Rahma’
(mercy).
Relocking the stable door, the girl returned to her room and lay on
her couch, but could not sleep. On the first streak of dawn appearing
she went to her father, who was occupied with his morning prayers
and prostrations. ‘God be praised!’ thought Rahma. ‘Baba is
always in a better humour after his prayers.’
The Sheikh, on seeing his daughter as he rose from his devotions,
cried out, ‘Well, light of my eyes, what brings you so early? You
look pale this morning. Have you not slept well? Methought the
return of your father safe from battle would have made my star shine
brighter. Sit down and tell me all. Who has displeased you? What
is it?’
‘Oh, Baba!’ she replied, ‘your safe return had made me most
happy, but now I feel miserable and very sad; for you have declared
you intend to shoot, this day, the Nazarene who has eaten bread
under our roof.’
‘Daughter,’ said the Sheikh, frowning severely, ‘know you
not that your uncle was killed by the infidel Portuguese? These
prisoners are their countrymen, and disbelievers in God, therefore
they must die. Whence comes this foolish pity? Know you not that
your mother—upon whose soul may God have mercy!—was a Sherífa? a
descendant of the Prophet, upon whose head be blessings!’
‘Yes, Baba,’ replied Rahma, ‘but did not the Prophet, to whom
we pray, say, “He that believes in God and the Day of Resurrection
shall have his reward, even though he be not a Moslem?” This
prisoner, the Nazarene now in your stable, believes in God and the
last Day.’
‘Who told you? What do you mean?’ cried the Sheikh, sternly,
rising and placing his hand angrily on Rahma’s shoulder. The girl
turned pale and sobbed out,—
‘Have patience, Baba, and I will tell you all. Never have I deceived
you nor dissembled my most secret thoughts.’ She then related,
with a faltering voice, how she had visited the prisoner and what
had passed between her and João.
The Sheikh was very angry, though he felt amused at the innocent
story and courage of his beloved child. He had a very hard heart,
but often, through her intercession, the cruel Sheikh had been led
to be kind and charitable in his deeds.
‘See,’ she continued, ‘what I found in the prisoner’s room:
a paper with the Sultan’s signet.’ The Sheikh read it, and his
countenance changed. After a pause he said, ‘’Tis well, Rahma,
that this paper, bearing the signet of our Lord the Sultan, has
been found. If this Nazarene prove to be João, the famous gunsmith,
I forgive your rash and unmaidenly conduct: but be careful for the
future, never to enter without me or an attendant any place where
a man, Christian or Moslem, may be.’
‘Baba,’ answered Rahma, ‘I always obey you; but if you care
for my happiness do not shoot the Christian. Do him no harm, he has
eaten our bread and he believes in God. Until I am sure he is safe,
I eat no bread nor even drink water.’
‘Begone, silly child!’ said the Sheikh. ‘Set your mind at rest,
for I swear by Allah that João dies not this day.’
The Sheikh then read the edict again and again, muttering to himself,
‘If this Nazarene be João the gunsmith, of whose fame we have
all heard, my fortune is made should I present him to the Sultan;
whilst, were I to take the life of the cursed infidel, and it came
to the ears of my Lord and Master that I had put to death the holder
of his Sherifian edict, I risk the loss of my head. Before coming
to a decision I shall verify, without delay, whether this infidel
is what he pretends to be. If he be the gunmaker, I shall be off to
the Court the day after to-morrow: if not, he shall be shot.’
Preparations had already been made in the early morning by the
villagers for placing the three Nazarenes as targets. An ox had been
killed and a great feast prepared: the mingled sounds of pipes and
drums were heard, and gun-dances, accompanied with frantic yells,
were being performed by the youths of the village. The elders, with
their long guns, squatted in circles and discussed the events of the
late great battle; whilst, with revenge rankling in their hearts,
they awaited with impatience the order from the Sheikh to have the
three Nazarenes brought out to be shot.
The order was at length given by the Sheikh that the two prisoners
confined in the ‘matmor’ should be led to the spot where they
were to become the butts for the villagers to shoot; whilst two
slaves, with drawn swords, brought along João from the stable,
his hands bound and his fetters clanging on the ground as he moved
slowly towards the place of execution.
João was resigned. ‘As I am to die,’ he thought, ‘I thank God
I have a clear conscience, in that I have never wilfully wronged a
fellow-creature.’ Then he remembered the kind pity shown him by
the daughter of the Sheikh, and said to himself, ‘As I am to die,
that sweet maiden at least will have pity and will mourn for me.’
So he walked erect through the throng of spectators with as firm a
step as the fetters would permit, and was conducted to the Sheikh,
who was seated on a hillock near the site chosen for the execution
of the prisoners. Crowds of women and children thronged on each side
of his path, and as he passed near some muffled figures of women,
João heard the words, ‘Put your trust in God, He is merciful!’
and his heart leapt with joy, for he recognised the sweet voice of
the Sheikh’s daughter.
When the three prisoners were placed in front of the Sheikh, he thus
addressed them: ‘Oh, Kaffers! Enemies of our Faith! prepare for
death and the eternal punishment which awaits you hereafter. You,’
he said, turning to João, ‘boast that you are the famous Portuguese
gunsmith. Does this Sherifian edict of our Lord and Master the Sultan
belong to you?’ holding it out, as he spoke, for João to see.
‘I am João, the gunsmith,’ the latter replied.
‘Prove it,’ said the Sheikh, ‘before twenty-four hours pass,
by making a twisted gun-barrel; a forge and implements shall be
prepared. If you fail, you will be placed as a target and perish
under the fire of the Faithful; and, as for the other prisoners’
(turning towards them), ‘Kaffers!’ he exclaimed, ‘Blood for
blood! You shall both die, and thus those whose brethren were slain
by the accursed infidels shall have their revenge!’
With a loud voice João cried out, ‘I swear by the Holy Cross
of Christ, if you injure a hair of the head of my countrymen, I
shall not do what you have proposed in order to prove that I am the
gunsmith. Neither durst thou, O Sheikh! put me or my countrymen to
death unless prepared to incur the dire displeasure of the Sultan.’
Then, turning round to the assembly of elders, he continued in a loud
voice: ‘I am João the gunsmith, the maker of twisted barrels,
and as I have been offered by the Sultan a large sum to serve His
Majesty, whosoever amongst you may have cause to be dissatisfied with
the Sheikh, and will give immediate notice at the Court that I am
a prisoner here and that the Sheikh has threatened to take my life,
will be sure to obtain high favour with His Majesty, who wishes to
employ me, as the Sheikh knows right well from the Sherifian edict now
in his possession. We three Portuguese soldiers were taken prisoners
in battle, and not in the commission of crime. The Sheikh calls us
rebels against God, but we believe in the Almighty as you do. We
have the same law as you from God, “Thou shalt do no murder.”’
Sheikh Shashon shook with rage and fear: he knew he had enemies
amongst the tribe, as many had suffered from his tyranny and
extortion: so he dreaded lest some one should hasten to the Court
and report to the Sultan that the gunsmith João was his prisoner
and sentenced to death. Turning therefore to the slaves who guarded
the prisoners, he said, ‘Take the infidels back to their place of
confinement. They shall die a more cruel death than that of being
shot, since this accursed Nazarene has dared to threaten me in such
an insolent manner.’
Murmurs arose amongst the crowd that the prisoners should at once be
slain, some crying out ‘Blood for blood,’ but the more prudent
elders told the Sheikh that João ought to be taken at once to the
Sultan to make gun-barrels for the Faithful to fight with against
the Christians.
After much uproar the prisoners were led off, and the Sheikh returned
to his dwelling, having made up his mind, from fear of incurring
the Sultan’s displeasure, to prepare at once to proceed to the
Court. He sent for Rahma, and when she appeared, said, ‘Loved
daughter! I have met your wishes, and shall spare the lives of the
Christians. To-morrow they will accompany me to Fas to be delivered
over to the Sultan, who may, if such be his will, put them to death,
should the Nazarene who calls himself João the gunsmith prove to
be an impostor.’
Rahma embraced her father but said not a word. She rejoiced in her
heart, for she was certain João was not an impostor, but she felt sad
that he was to leave, and that she could never hope to see again the
handsome young Christian whose life she had endeavoured to save, but
who, after all, might suffer death hereafter by order of the Sultan.
‘Light of my eyes!’ said the Sheikh, ‘do not look so sad. Is
it because I leave you? Please God, I shall soon return and prepare
for your wedding with my friend old Sheikh Amar.’
‘Baba,’ she replied, ‘now indeed all gladness has left my heart,
for I can never marry and leave you.’
‘Silly child! Go tell Embarek and the other slaves to prepare
for our departure to-morrow, and let two mules have packs put on
them to convey the prisoners. Two can ride together, with fetters,
upon one mule, and João shall have his fetters taken off and ride
the other. Thus shall the Christian be treated kindly, as you have
interceded for him, but he must swear by Allah that he will not
attempt to escape. Now tell your handmaids to direct the guards to
bring João here, and put on your ‘haik’ and cover your face,
my daughter, so that you may remain in the room and hear what the
infidel says, and the orders I am about to give.’
When João entered, the artful Sheikh put on a smiling countenance
and said, ‘João, I have decided on taking you to the Court,
as our Lord and Master, according to the Sherifian edict which I
have read, offered to take you into his service as a gunsmith. I
wish you to forget all that has passed and that we may become good
friends.’—‘Take off his fetters,’ he said to the slaves,
‘and go.’—Then turning to João, ‘No guard is necessary,’
said he, ‘for you are now at liberty, João, if you will swear by
Allah that you will not attempt to escape.’
The fetters were removed from João, who was about to give a haughty
retort, when Rahma, who stood a little behind her father, lowered her
veil and placed her finger on her lips with an imploring expression,
so João replied, smiling, ‘I thank you, Sheikh, and accept your
proffered friendship and will forget the past. I also swear by God,
in Whom as you have rightly said I believe, that I shall not attempt
to escape; but I have to beg that my fellow-prisoners also have
their fetters removed and be treated kindly.’
Rahma, bending down to her father’s ear, whispered, ‘Have pity
on the poor Christians. God’s blessing will then be with you,
Oh my father!’ Whereupon the Sheikh, turning to João, replied,
‘It shall be as you wish, and I will see these two prisoners at
once.’ So saying he clapped his hands, but neither Embarek nor any
other attendant answered the summons, and the Sheikh, rising hastily,
stepped into the courtyard calling loudly for Embarek.
João then hurriedly poured forth, in a low voice, his heartfelt
thanks to the gentle Rahma, and taking off a silver chain which he
wore concealed round his neck and to which was attached a small cross,
said, ‘Accept this in remembrance of one who owes his life to you,
and whose fondest hope now will be to see you again in this world.’
‘Never can that be,’ replied Rahma, placing as she spoke the
chain and cross in her bosom; ‘we are not like the Christian women;
we are kept shut up and treated as prisoners, and are not allowed to
have a will of our own: my father has just informed me that on his
return from Fas I am to be married to old Sheikh Amar of Zazor. I
am miserable at the thought of leaving my father who loves me,
to dwell under the roof of one I shall never love.’
‘Rahma,’ said João, ‘could you love a Nazarene who believes
in God, and loves you, sweet maiden, better than his own life?’
The girl, hiding her blushing face, faltered out, ‘I could, and
indeed I do love you; but it is all in vain.’
‘It shall not be in vain,’ said João, ‘for if I succeed
in pleasing the Sultan by the manufacture of gun-barrels such as
His Majesty desires, and thus obtain his favour, I shall assume
the Moorish garb, and, throwing myself at the feet of the Sultan,
implore His Majesty to require the Sheikh, your father, to give you
to me as my wife—if you will only love me.’
The clanking of fetters was heard; so Rahma, snatching from her
finger a little silver ring, gave it to João, saying, ‘May God’s
blessing and mercy be with us both. Trust in Him, and we may hope to
meet again.’ She then drew back and veiled her face as her father
approached, followed by Embarek and the two prisoners.
Addressing the latter, Sheikh Shashon said, ‘At the intercession of
João, whom I take to-morrow to the Court to enter the service of our
Lord and Master, as gunsmith, your lives are spared and your fetters
shall be removed. You will be taken with João to the Sultan, and
upon His Majesty’s decision your fate will depend. I swear, however,
that if you attempt to escape, no mercy shall be shown you.’
‘Take them,’ he continued to the slave, ‘to your hut and lock
them in; but remove their fetters. Let them have food from my kitchen
that they may feel well and strong for the journey to-morrow. Put a
couch for João in the courtyard: he is my guest, free to come and
go as he pleases.’ Then turning towards Rahma, he said, smiling,
‘All this I do to please you, my loved daughter.’
‘May God bless her!’ cried João and his companions.
Early on the following morning the Sheikh mounted a fine mule, and
the prisoners the animals prepared for them; whilst, destined as a
present to the Sultan, the famous gray mare, adorned with a handsome
headstall, was led by a slave.
Rahma appeared on the threshold, muffled in her ‘haik’; but
before João left she managed, when her father’s back was turned,
to unveil her face, and drawing from her bosom, where she had hidden
them, the silver chain and cross, pressed them to her lips: which
gesture João acknowledged by raising towards heaven the finger upon
which he wore her ring.
Sheikh Shashon despatched a courier to the Court to announce their
advent, and fearing lest some enemy in the village might forestall
him, he wrote to the Uzir that he was bringing the gunsmith João
and two other Nazarenes, prisoners, to deliver them to his Lord and
Master the Sultan, to be dealt with as His Majesty might please.
When within a few hours’ journey of the capital a Kaid of the
Sultan’s body-guard, sent expressly by His Majesty, arrived with
an order to the Sheikh to the effect that every care should be taken
of João, and to inform the latter that a house and forge, where he
could work, had already been prepared for him, and that the two other
prisoners were to be lodged for the present in the same dwelling. The
Kaid also informed the Sheikh that His Majesty commended his conduct
in having brought João safely to the Court, and that the Sheikh
was therefore regarded favourably by his Lord and Master.
On his arrival João was taken before the Sultan, who informed
him that he would be provided with ‘mona’ (provisions), and a
dwelling near the palace; that the implements of a smith and piles
of old horse-shoes were also ready, and that for every gun-barrel
João made, ten ducats would be paid him. The Sultan added, ‘If
you will become one of the Faithful, I have ordered that the garments
of a Moslem be given you.’
João thanked His Majesty and replied, ‘I accept with pleasure
your Majesty’s offer of Moorish garments to replace the tattered
clothing I now wear.’
Whilst thus accepting the Sultan’s offer, João vowed in his heart
that, though assuming the outward garb of a Mohammedan in the hope
of obtaining Rahma hereafter as his wife, he would remain always
a true Catholic, and hope for the day when he would return to the
land of his forefathers.
João was very industrious, and with the assistance only of the two
Portuguese, his fellow-prisoners—for he did not wish the Moors
to discover the secret of his art—he was enabled to manufacture
a number of barrels, even before the Sheikh left the Court.
The Sultan[44], who was interested in every kind of mechanism, was
wont to go to the forge to see João work; gave him the rank of Kaid,
and marked in many ways his satisfaction.
The Sheikh was presented with a horse, with handsome saddle and
bridle, as a mark of His Majesty’s favour, and before leaving
the Court went to see João, and told him of his own good fortune,
and expressed his satisfaction at seeing from his dress that João
was now a Moslem and an officer in high favour with the Sultan.
João shook the Sheikh warmly by the hand, bidding him farewell,
saying, ‘You know that I am indebted for my life to the intercession
of your daughter. I intend to marry and settle here. Will you grant
me the hand of your daughter?’
‘It cannot be,’ answered the Sheikh, ‘I have betrothed her to my
friend Sheikh Amar. The Sultan, now that you are in such high favour,
will bestow on you, if you petition His Majesty, some maiden with
a larger dowry than I can afford to give my daughter.’ He then
departed, leaving João very depressed.
A few days after the Sheikh had left, the Sultan visited the forge
of João and found the young smith hard at work, but looking very
wan and out of spirits. Observing this, the Sultan inquired of João
whether he was unwell, or had cause of complaint against any one
at the Court, and whether the food sent daily from the palace was
plentiful and such as he liked?
João replied that he had no complaint to make against any one,
but that he had a sorrow at heart which he could not make known to
the Sultan, lest it might cause His Majesty’s displeasure.
‘Speak,’ said the Sultan; ‘have no fear. Any one who may have
offended you shall be punished. Whatever you ask shall be granted:
what I promise shall be fulfilled. Speak out boldly.’
João obeyed and told the Sultan the story of his capture,
condemnation to death, and release at the intercession of the
Sheikh’s daughter.
When he had concluded his tale, His Majesty exclaimed, ‘Allah
Akbar!’ (God is great!) ‘Had the Sheikh taken your life he would
have forfeited his own. This daughter of his, the maiden who is the
cause of my having you safe here to manufacture guns for the Moslems,
shall be rewarded. What do you desire?’
Throwing himself at the Sultan’s feet João said, ‘She who saved
my life I had hoped might become my wife, but alas! I have learnt she
is betrothed to a friend of the Sheikh, an old chief of a neighbouring
village, named Sheikh Amar. This it is that makes me miserable.’
‘Before ten days elapse,’ said the Sultan, ‘if this maiden
be not already married to Sheikh Amar, she shall be brought here by
her father and become your wife, and I will give her a dowry.’
The young smith again fell at the feet of the Sultan and expressed
his gratitude.
A Kaid was despatched with all speed to the Sheikh of Beni M’suar,
with the command that he and all his family should be brought at
once to the Court. This officer was directed however to ascertain,
before he executed this order, whether the daughter of the Sheikh
had been lately married; for in such case the Royal command was not
to be carried out.
The officer departed on his mission and found that the wedding had
not taken place, as old Sheikh Amar had died suddenly shortly after
Sheikh Shashon had left for Fas. Father and daughter were therefore
brought to the Court, and on their arrival were given a comfortable
dwelling near the palace.
Rahma’s heart was filled with joy when she learnt that João was
in high favour with the Sultan, for she remembered his last words
to herself.
The smith hastened to salute the Sheikh. Rahma was not allowed to
enter the room, but she could see her lover through the chinks of
the door, and heard João, after saluting her father, say, ‘Is
your daughter, who saved my life, well? Is she unmarried? If so,
I must not conceal from you that I have petitioned the Sultan that
she be given me as wife. For this His Majesty has been pleased to
order you to come to the Court.’
The Sheikh, who had been in great trepidation, fearing that the Sultan
might have heard of the intention he at one time had of putting João
and the other Portuguese to death, and that His Majesty had summoned
him to the Court to punish him, was greatly relieved, and replied,—
‘Oh my son! as your garb shows you are now one of the Faithful
and in favour with our Lord and Master, His Majesty’s commands,
whatever they may be, shall be joyfully obeyed.’
The Sultan ordered the Uzir to signify to the Sheikh his Royal
command that his daughter was forthwith to be wedded to João, and
that it was His Majesty’s intention to give her a handsome dowry.
A great feast was prepared by the officers of the Court, at which
the Sheikh attended, whilst Rahma was taken to the harem of the
Hajib (Chief Chamberlain), where the ladies had also prepared a
feast. Beautiful dresses and jewelry were sent by the Sultan to
Rahma, and a marriage contract was drawn up by public notaries,
signed by the Kadi, with a note of the dowry, one thousand ducats,
given her by the Sultan.
On the day of the wedding, the bride, ensconced in a wooden cage,
covered with silk and embroidery, was conveyed on the back of a mule
to João’s house, accompanied by musicians with pipes and drums
and a large troop of men firing guns. The cage was removed from the
back of the mule by four female slaves and brought into the room,
prepared with handsome carpets, where João awaited her. The slaves
assisted her to leave the cage and retired.
As soon as they were alone Rahma threw herself at the feet of her
husband, crying, ‘Oh beloved! God has answered our prayers. He
is merciful, and now I shall be, as long as I live, your faithful,
happy wife. But, João, I beg you to repeat that you believe in God
and the Day of Resurrection. I rejoice to see you in the garb of a
Moslem, and hope you are now really one of the Faithful.’
‘Rahma,’ he said, raising her in his arms, ‘to thee I owe
my life; for thee I shall be ready to lay it down; but I must not
deceive thee! I am not a Moslem, but a Christian, and, as such, I
believe in God and the last Day. I assumed this garb in order that
I might be supposed to be a Mohammedan, and thus be able to petition
the Sultan that you should be my wife.’
Rahma drew away from his arms, saying, ‘I cannot, I must not,
offend God by marrying a Christian.’
João replied, ‘Know you not that your prophet Mohammed married a
Christian woman? Oh loved wife! I shall be a faithful husband, and
when I tell you about my belief and religion, you will learn that
we have the same laws from God, except that we Christians cannot
marry more than one wife. Does such a law displease you, my Rahma?’
‘Swear,’ she said, ‘that you will never divorce me, never
marry another woman.’
‘I swear,’ he replied, ‘that nought but death shall part us.’
Rahma then threw herself into João’s arms, exclaiming, ‘I am
for ever your loving wife, and shall honour and obey you!’
João and Rahma were very happy. Of an evening, when his work was
done, he taught her to read and write Portuguese, and found her
quick and intelligent in learning. He explained to her the precepts
of the Christian religion, and told her that he hoped the day might
come when he could find some excuse to leave the Moorish Court and
escape with her to Portugal.
When their first child, a girl, was born, Rahma expressed the wish
that her name should be ‘Miriam,’ or Mary, the name of the Mother
of the Saviour of all men, and that she should be brought up in the
Christian faith.
João was very industrious, and continued in high favour with the
Sultan, manufacturing many gun-barrels, upon which, besides his own
name in European characters, he engraved the Arabic word ‘Sidi’
(my Lord), to denote that they were made for the Sultan, and such
barrels are occasionally to be found at the present day.
The Moorish gunsmiths having lost, since João’s arrival at Court,
the Royal custom, took counsel together how they should contrive to
discover the Christian’s secret of forging the twisted barrels;
for João was careful to allow no Moor, except the Sultan, to enter
his forge when he was at work.
The Portuguese was of very cleanly habits, and had his workshop
whitewashed every month, for which work Jews are usually employed
throughout Morocco. One of the smiths, disguised as a Jew, offered
himself to João to whitewash the forge. He was engaged, and returned
for the same purpose every month.
The sharp-eyed spy watched the operations, and finally learnt so
much of the process as to enable him to imitate it, and he succeeded
so well that he presented a twisted barrel to the Sultan, which His
Majesty considered to be as good as any of João’s make.
The latter was summoned to the Court and asked how it came to
pass that twisted barrels could be made by native gunsmiths. The
unfortunate João declared he had been betrayed by some spy watching
him when at work.
Other Moorish smiths also acquired the art, and, as good barrels of
twisted iron were sold at low prices in Fas, the Sultan discontinued
employing João, and ceased sending him ‘mona’ from the palace.
João, however, had laid by a considerable sum of money, and he
determined to quit the capital with his wife and try to escape to
Tangier. He therefore petitioned the Sultan to be allowed to take
his wife to visit her father, the Sheikh at Beni M’suar.
This was granted, and João bought animals to carry away such
property as he had not been able to dispose of at Fas, and set out
with Rahma and her child for the village of Tsemsalla in the Beni
M’suar mountains.
After remaining some time with his wife at the Sheikh’s house,
where they received a warm welcome, João informed his father-in-law
that he must return to his work. Leaving early one morning with his
wife and child, he proceeded to Tangier, a distance of about fifteen
miles. On arrival at the Portuguese outposts, he was challenged by a
sentry. The soldier proved to be an old comrade who had heard that
João had assumed the disguise of a Moslem, and, recognising him,
allowed him to enter the town, where he was conducted before the
Portuguese Governor, to relate his adventures and present his wife
and child.
The Governor took great interest in João, who had always borne
an excellent character. Rahma, by her husband’s desire, wore the
European dress, and as a Christian no longer veiled her face. The
Governor was much struck by her beauty and gentle manners, and on
learning from her, for she had acquired the Portuguese language,
that she was already converted to the Christian faith and desired to
be baptized by a priest, together with her little girl, he took her
to his wife and daughters, by whom Rahma was made much of. They were
lodged in the Governor’s house, and the baptism was carried out,
with great ceremony, at the Cathedral[45] of Tangier; the child was
christened Miriam.
After a sojourn of some weeks, João and his family were given
a passage in a Government vessel bound to Lisbon, with letters
of recommendation to the King and Queen, to whom their history
was related. The Royal family patronised João, and took especial
interest in pretty Rahma and her daughter as being converts from
the Mohammedan faith.
Being a clever mechanic, João obtained a lucrative employment, and
lived in ease and comfort with his wife, who bore him a large family.
Rahma wrote to her father and described how happy she and her husband
were, and that they had escaped to the land of the Nazarenes, as
they had feared the jealous and revengeful feelings of the smiths
at the capital; for João, since the betrayal of his secret, had no
longer been shown favour by the Sultan. However, for fear of causing
sorrow to her father, she did not inform him of her conversion to
the Christian faith.
João sent the old Sheikh a beautiful gun, with his own name and
that of Sheikh Shashon engraved on the barrel in letters of gold.