ASCENT OF THE ATLAS MOUNTAINS.
After his return from the Mission to Marákesh, which has been
described in the previous chapter, Sir John, writing to Sir Henry
Layard on May 24, 1873, gives an epitome of his labours at the Court,
and refers to the expeditions undertaken to the Atlas Mountains
during his travels.
‘We returned,’ he says, ‘from our travels on the 8th inst. in
better health than when we started. The weather was cool, and no
rain fell to stop our march except on one day.
‘I had no instructions from the Foreign Office except to deliver
my new credentials; but I took advantage, of course, of my visit to
the Court to place our relations on a better footing, and I flatter
myself I have succeeded, as I have settled, or put in the proper
groove for settlement, a host of pending claims and grievances.
‘Tissot was at the Court at the same time as myself, and we
marched hand in hand in all questions affecting common interests,
or, as Tissot described the position of the Moorish Government, like
that of a wild boar with a hound hanging on each ear. The Moors were
astonished to find the French and British Representatives in perfect
union and showing no signs of petty jealousy about etiquette in forms;
in fact, we took our precautions of warning Moorish and _our own_
officials that we insisted upon no attention being shown or form
observed to one or the other which differed.
‘The Sultan and his Ministers were most courteous and
hospitable. Nothing could be more pleasing than His Majesty’s
manner and language to myself in a private audience. He conversed
with great good sense, but he declared his policy to be _conservative_
in the strictest sense of the word.
‘In reply to the proposals made by Tissot and myself for various
reforms and improvements, His Majesty said to me, “We and thou
understand very well that all you suggest is very excellent, and might
be most beneficial in developing the resources of our dominions; but
the eminent men (Ulama, &c.) do not desire that we should introduce
the innovations of Europe into this land, nor conform ourselves
with Christian usages. We made certain promises on our accession to
the throne, and unless my councillors alter their views, we cannot,
without endangering our position.” When I alluded to Turkey and
Egypt, he intimated that those Governments had no doubt increased
in power and wealth, but that their independence was shaken.
‘Tissot received a telegram from his Government regarding some
frontier conflict near Taza, stating that a large force had been
sent by the Governor of Algeria to enter Morocco and chastise the
predatory tribes. Thiers stopped the march of the force, until Tissot
could be referred to. He has arranged all matters satisfactorily with
the Sultan, to whom he brought the “Grand Cordon of the Legion of
Honour.” . . .
‘Whilst the Sultan was digesting my memoranda on various affairs,
we made an expedition to the slopes of the Atlas. My son reached the
snow, but was obliged to beat a rapid retreat, as the mountaineers
were in revolt against the Sultan. The Shloh tribes of the Atlas,
who were submissive to the Sultan, were most kind and hospitable
to us. They gave us all a hearty welcome, and I was delighted on
finding that I was known to all these wild fellows as being a friend
to the Moors and “a just man.” The valleys of the Atlas are very
beautiful and fertile. The inhabitants live in two-storied houses,
something like the Swiss, only very rude in form. They are a far
superior race to their conquerors, the Arabs.’
As this letter shows, the hope which Sir John had entertained of
returning with the Mission through the Atlas mountains and thence
to Mogador was not completely fulfilled, as a rising of the tribes
in that district rendered the expedition unsafe. Sid Musa however
suggested that before leaving Marákesh, an expedition of a few days
might be organised to visit ‘Uríka,’ on the slope of the Atlas
nearest to the city. This was arranged, and on the morning of April 17
the party left Marákesh by the beautiful Bab el Mahsen, or Government
gate, the fine old arch of which, built of red stone engraved with
Arabic inscriptions, is said to have been brought by the Moors from
Spain,—an improbable legend founded on the fact that Jeber was
the architect. The narrative is given from Miss Hay’s Diary.
‘As we passed the Sultan’s palace, which, by the way, is said
to contain a female population amounting to a thousand women (of
all colours!), the standard-bearer lowered the banner as a mark of
respect. This salute was also accorded when passing the tombs of
“saléhin,” or holy men.
‘On this trip, as also on the subsequent return journey to Mogador,
the usual red banner that precedes an envoy was replaced by a green
one. This latter is the emblem of the Sultan’s spiritual authority,
and there was a peculiar significance and compliment in its being sent
to precede the Representative of Great Britain and of a Christian
Sovereign. The Sultan also sent his own stirrup-holder, a fine old
Bokhári, to attend Sir John, as he would his Royal Master, an office
which the noble old man punctiliously fulfilled. He was always near
Sir John’s person, prepared to alight and hold his stirrup when
required, as he was wont to do for the Sultan. The old man had many a
quaint tale to relate, and Sir John would sometimes summon him to his
side and encourage him to talk of his recollections and experiences.
‘The valley of the Atlas, whither we were bound, was in sight due
South. Our way at first lay across the plain and along the line of
deep and dangerous pits that mark the track of the aqueduct which
supplies Marákesh with water, said to come from the hills thirty
miles distant. These pits are about twenty feet in diameter and of
equal depth, and one of our party had a narrow escape one day, during
a wild and general race across the plain, riding nearly directly
into one of these chasms concealed by long grass. Fortunately the
clever little Barb swerved, and, jumping, cleared the pit to one side.
‘Tradition states that formerly, in remote times, an aqueduct
brought water underground direct from the Atlas to the city. This
became blocked and damaged, but could not be repaired or cleared
owing to its great depth below the surface. Therefore one of the
ancient rulers, to collect the water it supplied, made great wells
or reservoirs some fifteen miles from Marákesh, and closed all the
fountains and springs in their vicinity. From these the present water
supply was brought to the city, and originally flowed in through
four hundred canals or aqueducts. These, Arabian historians relate,
were the work of 20,000 Christian captives.
‘The greater extent of the plain was in grass, studded with thorny
“sidder” bushes; but some crops of barley and beans looked
flourishing, and here and there, where irrigation had been attempted
by means of watercourses from the river “Ghemáts” vegetation
was luxuriant beneath olive and other fruit-trees.
‘At about 4 p.m. the country assumed a more pleasing aspect as we
passed the villages of the Shloh tribe of Mesfíwa. These Shloh,
like the natives of Sus and Rif, are all of Berber race. Neither
Phœnicians, Goths, Romans nor Arabs ever succeeded in bringing them
completely under subjection, for they retreated before the conquerors
to the mountains, and in these highland fastnesses maintained their
independence. With the exception of a few tribes they owe no political
allegiance to the Sultan, but acknowledge his spiritual suzerainty as
the recognised head of the Mohammedan religion in Morocco, in virtue
of his direct descent from the Prophet. They altogether differ in
appearance from the Arabs, and no affinity can be traced between the
Berber and the Arabic languages, excepting in words connected with the
Mohammedan religion which were introduced when the Berbers adopted
the creed of Islam. In place of tents the Shloh live in houses, of
one or two stories, built of mud and stone without mortar, the earth
of this district having the peculiar quality, when well beaten down,
of being impermeable.
‘Learned writers have disputed the origin of the Berbers, but
they seem to agree that they are not the aborigines of the country,
but displaced another and more ancient race of inhabitants. One of
the traditions of the Berbers is that their ancestors were driven
out of Syria by the “Khalífa” of “Sidna Musa” (“our Lord
Moses”), meaning Joshua, the lieutenant of Moses. Their country in
the South of Morocco is called generally “Sus,” and the manner
of their expulsion is related in yet another legend quoted from a
commentary on the Koran.
‘God said unto David, “Banish the Beraber out of this land,
for if they dwelt in hills of iron they would break them down.”
Whereupon, says the story, King David placed the people on camels,
in sacks called “gharaiar,” and sent them away. When they arrived
at the Atlantic coast their leader called out, in the Berber tongue,
“Sus”—which means let down, or empty out—so the exiles were
canted out of their sacks, and the country is thence called “Sus”
to this day!
‘Many of the Shloh proper names appear to have an affinity to the
Hebrew, if not actually of Hebraic origin, such as Ait Usi, Ait Atta,
Ait Emor, Ait Sisac, Ait Braim. The Hebrew equivalent of the first
three being Hait Busi, in our translation the Jebusites, Ha Hitti,
the Hittites. Ha Emori, the Amorites. Ait Sisac may be translated
“Those of Isaac,” or The children of laughter. Ait Braim needs
no translation.
‘On our entry into Mesfíwa we were surprised to find signs of
much more industry, and even of civilisation, than in the districts
inhabited by the Arab population. Here irrigation was carefully
attended to; the numerous plantations of olive and fruit-trees,
as well as the fields of grain, were better cultivated; and the
condition of the bridle roads and rude bridges over the streams
afforded further proof of a more intelligent and industrious people.
‘Ascending the slopes we reached the camp pitched in an olive-grove
on a small island formed by the Ghemáts, here called the “Dad i
Sirr,” evidently its Berber name. We crossed with some difficulty
this mountain torrent, which foamed and swirled up to the horses’
girths. Flowing down a gorge of the Atlas running nearly North and
South, this river then takes a north-westerly direction till it
joins the Tensift, which again flows into the Atlantic near Saffi.
‘On the side of a hill, about four hundred yards from the site of
the camp, lay the village Akhlij, crowned by a castle built of red
stone and earth, and having five square bastions with loopholes for
musketry. In fact every house in these villages can be used as a
little fort, the walls being pierced so that each householder can
defend himself against his neighbour, or all can combine and act
against an invader of their stronghold. The population of Akhlij is
said to be about 500 souls, including some forty Jews, each Jewish
family, according to the custom of the Shloh, being under the special
protection of a Mohammedan chieftain.
‘Above the spot where we were encamped rose the mountain of Zinat
Kar, the summit dotted with patches of snow, and, towering over
all, the snowy heights of “Glaui” frowned upon the groves of
palms, oranges and olives which spread below basking in the sultry
temperature of the plains.
‘On our arrival in camp the Sheikh and elders of the village
presented themselves, by order of the Sultan, to welcome the
“Bashador.” The Sheikh, a tall man, was draped in a long, seamless
“haik;” but some of his followers wore a black burnous similar
to those in use among the Jews of Marákesh. The meeting took place
under the British flag—hoisted for the first time in these wild
regions—before Sir John’s tent. In the evening the deputation
returned, bringing an abundant supply of provisions and forage,
and, in addition, huge dishes of cooked food for the soldiers and
camp-followers. This “mona” was collected from the whole province
under the rule of Basha Grenog, comprising some fifteen “kabail,”
or tribes, spread over a district about fifty miles in diameter. The
tax therefore fell lightly on the inhabitants, not amounting to more
perhaps than a half-penny a family, which sum would be deducted from
the payment of their annual taxes.
‘This spot in the valley of Uríka, at the foot of the Atlas, is
about 500 feet above Marákesh and 2,000 feet above sea-level, and the
fine air was most enjoyable. The night appeared cold, the temperature
falling below 60° Fahr. At midday it was 74° in the shade.
‘There were contradictory statements as to the sport to be
expected. But, after much cross-questioning, the natives confessed
that there were no wild boar nearer than the snow; that the
“audad[48],” or wild sheep, was to be found, but only on the
highest hills a couple of hours’ ride distant; and that lions and
leopards were not to be seen within two days’ march, or about
thirty miles further among the snowy ranges. On inquiry whether
there were any fish in the river, we were told that, later in the
season, a speckled fish about nine or ten inches long comes up from
the Tensift. This no doubt is the trout, which is found also in the
mountain streams near Tetuan. On asking the Berber name for large
river fish, Sir John was surprised to hear that it is “selmen,”
which would appear to be a cognate word to our “salmon.”’
The account of the ascent of the Atlas which follows is chiefly
compiled from notes written at the time by Mr. Drummond Hay, who
accompanied the Mission, and who, with one companion, succeeded in
scaling the heights and reaching the snow. An earlier ascent, but not
to so high a point, was made in 1829 by Mr. E. W. A. Drummond Hay,
Sir John’s father. Other travellers have visited the Atlas, both
before and since Sir John; but no Representative of a Foreign Power,
it is believed, had ever yet done so, openly and with the good-will
of the Sultan.
‘_May 18._ After breakfast all the party, ladies included, mounted
their horses. The son of the Sheikh, a fine handsome fellow, riding
a splendid black horse, led the way up the valley of Uríka, and
we rode along the banks of the torrent. On each side of the gorge
rose conical hills clothed with “el aris[49],” the scented
“arrar[49],” and the lentiscus or wild pistachio. The olive,
walnut, orange, apricot and vine were also abundant.
‘We travelled along a path on the steep river bank, sometimes so
narrow that, if a horse had made a false step, the rider might have
been precipitated into the torrent which foamed below. But as we
advanced the road improved, and showed signs of some knowledge of
road-making and of great care on the part of the inhabitants. Here
and there it was mended with wood and stones; the large boulders
were cleared from the path and built up as walls on either side;
and, where a torrent crossed the way, there was a rude bridge
of one or more arches, composed of trees and branches cemented
with mud and stone. Below us flowed the river, now turbulent
and shallow in its wide bed. By the banks grew numbers of trees
which resembled silver poplars, the timber of which is used in the
construction of their houses by the mountaineers. Their delicate
foliage contrasted pleasantly on the mountain side with the sombre
green of the “arrar” and “aris,” which here do not seem to
attain so great a height as they do in the Rif country. Mingled with
them grow the karob, or locust-tree, and the mountain ash. Numbers
of wild flowers filled the hedges that hemmed in the fields or grew
by the wayside; among them we recognised many English friends. There
were also several flowers new to us, particularly a lovely species
of broom bearing a brilliant violet blossom with an orange centre,
and another pretty, highly-scented, yellow flower all declared must
be a wild jasmine, so closely did it resemble the garden variety.
‘Villages were to be seen on both sides of the gorge, and
one of them saluted us with a _feu de joie_ of musketry. After a
gentle ascent of an hour and a half we arrived at a pretty grove of
olives. Here the Sheikh insisted upon our dismounting, as he said the
villagers desired to welcome our party by giving us a feast. It was
in vain the “Bashador” explained that we desired to push, as far
as we could ride, up the mountains. After waiting an hour, as no food
appeared, he gained his point and we were allowed to re-mount. But,
to our great dismay, just at the moment of moving off, arrived
some forty villagers, every one of whom carried on his head a huge
earthen platter, containing several dishes of meat and “siksu”;
each dish holding sufficient to satisfy ten hungry hunters. Having
explained to these hospitable people that we had only just had our
morning repast and were most anxious to sharpen our appetites by a
ride up the mountain before consuming the feast, we were allowed to
depart in peace—though a solemn promise was first exacted that we
would return without fail in the evening to accept their prodigal
hospitality. We then continued the gradual ascent, passing through
villages the houses of which recalled in some degree the _chalets_
in Switzerland, though these were of very rude form. Many of them had
overhanging eaves and open galleries on the second story, where the
inmates could sit and enjoy the air and scenery, sheltered from sun
or weather. Some of the houses were decorated with patterns on the
wall below the roof, picked out in crossed lines such as are seen
in old buildings in some parts of England and Germany. But in this
instance the lines were white on the dull background of red earth
with which these houses are built.
‘The population—men, women, and children—turned out to gaze at
us. But neither by word, look, or gesture was there any demonstration
of fanatical or hostile feeling. The villagers seemed rather to
consider our advent to be the occasion for a holiday. A petition was
sent to the “Bashador” by the boys of a school that their teacher
should be asked to grant them a holiday to behold the English. A few
silver coins to the pedagogue and the request of the “Bashador”
set all the boys at liberty, and thus the rising generation of
Uríka will, it may be hoped, retain a friendly recollection of
the “Ingliz.”
‘These mountaineers were fairer than their brethren of the plain,
and some of the women comely. The latter, like their Rifian sisters,
do not hide their faces; and we are told that the state of morality
amongst them is of a very high standard. No female is in danger of
being insulted, and it may be safely declared that there is a better
state of morality amongst the Berber women of Morocco than exists
in England or in any other country in Europe. The women were draped,
like the men, in a long, seamless garment; but they wore it fastened
by two silver brooches on the shoulders or over the breast, supporting
the folds which hung gracefully around their persons. These brooches
are generally connected by long pendent silver chains. The younger
women had long black hair, which appeared to be carefully dressed,
and they showed the same love of adornment as their European sisters
by decorating their tresses with poppies and other wild flowers.
‘Lady Hay, who rode a mule, on learning that all must now dismount
and proceed on foot if they wished to continue the ascent of the
mountain, decided to remain at the village. A fine-looking Shloh,
hearing of this decision, stepped forward and offered to take her
into his house. She accepted his hospitality, and was placed under
the ægis of the faithful chief of the camp, Hadj Hamed Lamarti. The
rest of the party proceeded on foot.
‘The dismounted horsemen of the Bokhári guard were soon blown
and gave up; then the Sheikh’s son—who was rather too well fed
and in bad condition—sat down, looking very grave, and tried to
dissuade us from further ascent. But on we went, accompanied only
by some half dozen stalwart Shloh, armed with long guns. Under the
shade of a locust-tree Sir John and his daughters, having ascended
some way, came to a halt, as the air was sultry and the ascent very
precipitous. Colonel Lambton, Major de Winton, Major Hitchcock,
Captain Sawle, Mr. Hay, and Mr. Brooks plodded on, the mountaineers
leading the way. The ascent was almost as steep as a vertical
ladder, and after climbing some 1,500 feet they began to feel much
exhausted. At this point four of the party gave up, and two of the
mountaineers, glad of an excuse to halt, remained to guard them.
‘Captain Sawle and Mr. Hay continued their upward way, and, as
Mr. Hay relates, “We appeared to gain fresh wind and strength as
we ascended. On reaching the first snow we fired a shot to announce
to the party our success, for in the morning there had been a great
discussion whether the ascent to the snow could be accomplished in
one day.
‘We reached the summit of the first high range called Zinat
Kar at 2 p.m., and at that moment I sprung a covey of partridges,
and again signalled our arrival by a successful right and left,
which was greeted with a yell of delight by the mountaineers who
accompanied us. We could not tell what height we had reached, as
my aneroid was out of order and had stopped registering half-way;
but as far as we could judge by distance we must then have been
about 6,000 feet above the camp. To our astonishment we found here
an extensive table-land with considerable cultivation, though snow
was still lying on the ground in many parts. This plateau extended
to the foot of a snow-covered range which again rose abruptly beyond.
‘Whilst we rested I discharged my gun at an eagle, and afterwards
at a crow, which latter I killed—a curious bird with red beak and
legs. A few minutes after, when we were thinking of again continuing
our route, we heard to our surprise a volley of musketry, and saw the
distant heights around us manned by armed men. Our Shloh companions
informed us that these people were the “Ahal Kubla,” or people of
the South, inhabiting the snowy range before us. This tribe does not
submit to the Sultan’s authority, and a gun fired on a height is
a signal that an enemy is in sight, and consequently, we were told,
in another hour we might find ourselves surrounded by these lawless
people, who were at present at feud with the Uríka, and the latter
do not venture therefore to trespass on their territory.
‘The difficulty the Sultan would experience in subduing these
tribes can be imagined, since the sole access to this district is
by the steep ascent we had just made[50].
‘Discretion being the better part of valour, we determined to beat
a rapid retreat, and descended the escalade as fast as our weary
limbs would carry us. At 4 o’clock we rejoined the rest of the
party under the olive-trees where we had first stopped. They had
just concluded the feast and were starting for camp.
‘While the climbing party were in sight Sir John and his daughters
watched them from under the shade of the locust-tree: then,
descending to the village, found Hadj Hamed waiting for them in
one of the little streets. He conducted them to Lady Hay, whom the
villagers had installed in the open gallery of one of their houses,
looking out on the mountains. It was very clean: there were only some
dry maize husks piled in a corner and a number of beehives arranged
in a row on the floor. The pillars which supported the front of the
gallery were ornamented very rudely with quaint attempts at arabesque
decoration. Lady Hay said she had felt faint on arrival, and having
asked for bread, they brought her a loaf and a piece of honeycomb.
‘The owner of the house welcomed us warmly, and on Sir John saying
that he was much pleased with the mountaineers and considered them
far finer fellows than the Arabs, he was delighted, and tried to pay
some compliment to the English. Then he brought us in the skirt of his
dress a number of freshly gathered oranges, which proved delicious.
‘All the climbers now returned except Captain Sawle and Mr. Hay,
and we prepared to leave our comfortable retreat; but, when Sir
John turned to take leave of his kind host, the latter begged
and implored him to wait a little longer—only a few minutes,
he pleaded. After some demur, his earnest request was acceded to;
the carpets were again spread, and all sat down. The hospitable
villager hurried away, but soon re-appeared, followed by another man,
each bearing a bowl of smoking hot paste, resembling vermicelli,
boiled in milk. In the centre of each dish was a little pool of
melted butter. We rather dreaded tasting the food, after our late
experience of Moorish cookery, but were agreeably surprised, when,
having grouped ourselves round each bowl, using our own forks,
we tried the mess and found it excellent. The paste was delicate,
well boiled, and flavoured with some pungent spice, and the butter
exquisitely fresh and sweet. This form of food appears to have been
a staple dish with the Berbers since ancient times. We did justice
to this food, which was followed by a basket of hot cakes made of
rye, resembling scones, accompanied by a bowl of melted butter, and
those who had the courage to dip their bread therein pronounced it
good also.
‘Our host no longer made any objection when we again rose to
depart, only saying, when thanked for his hospitality, that not
having expected us to remain at his village he had been unable to
prepare better food at such short notice. He added that, should the
“Bashador” desire at any future time to travel in the Atlas,
he could do so in perfect safety—especially if unaccompanied by an
escort from the Moorish Government. “For,” he said, “your love
of justice towards all and the kindness shown by you to our poorer
brethren, when in distress in the North (of Morocco), is known to us
and we shall not forget. Come amongst us, you will ever be welcome;
remain several months, hunt with us and be our guest, and no injury
shall befall you or yours.”
‘Touched and pleased by this kindly speech from a native Sheikh in
a district where few Christians had ever penetrated, Sir John and
his party rode back towards the olive-grove. As we passed through
the narrow lanes, the women and children collected in some of the
orchards, smiling and beckoning, and were delighted when the ladies
lifted the thick white veils they wore and greeted them in return. The
women were fair-skinned, and many of them good-looking. Here and
there we observed really pretty, graceful girls; one in particular,
whom Sir John noticed as she leant against a doorway, was quite
handsome. She was dressed in a curious “haik,” stained in
patterns to represent a leopard skin, and hanging from her neck she
wore a quaint, square-shaped silver ornament, with a blue stone in
the centre.
‘The women’s heads were covered, but they made no attempt to
veil their faces. The men were generally draped in the “haik”;
but those who ran beside us, or climbed the heights, threw aside
this cumbrous garment and appeared in thin long shirts belted at the
waist. Wooden powder-flasks, covered with brightly coloured leather
and studded with brass knobs, gay little shot or bullet bags, and an
ornamented curved dagger hung by their sides from a broad strap over
the shoulder. A long gun was invariably carried by each man. Some
were bare-headed, others had a cord tied tightly round their shaven
skulls, but most of them wore a small white turban.
‘On arrival at the olive-grove, at which we had promised to halt
on our return, we were soon seated round an enormous flat dish full
of “siksu.” It would have been cold, but for the depth of the
contents; so that by digging down we reached some that was hot and
palatable. Our followers assembled in twos and threes about each
great platter and devoured the contents with the greatest avidity.
‘Several of the boys, who gathered about us, we observed busily
working at a curious frame composed of a hollow cane, up which a
number of coarse woollen threads were passed and secured at either
end. Under these, the cane was encircled by a ring which held the
threads away from the rod and enabled the little workman to deftly
weave in bright coloured worsted across the threads, his fingers
being employed without any shuttle, and a small piece of wood, cut
like a comb, used to drive down each cross thread into its place,
making various patterns as they went up the rod. On inquiring the
purpose of this work we were told they were belts. Though we offered
to buy any that were finished, none were forthcoming; but one of the
lads brought his work to be examined, and was much startled when
the “Bashador” on returning him his frame offered him a small
coin, evidently fearing an attempt was being made to buy his work,
frame and all. However he took the money readily, though shyly,
when convinced it was only a present.
‘We returned to Marákesh on the 20th; but, before leaving, received
a visit from some of the Jews who live amongst the mountain tribes
and who wished to consult the doctor attached to the Mission. They
came up as we were all seated, grouped under the trees about the
camp. The elders kissed the heads of those of our party who were
covered; the younger, their shoulders. These Jews were dressed
exactly like the Shloh amongst whom they live, with the exception
that they wore a black skull-cap. The Jewesses also were attired
like the Shloh or Arab women, but with a scarlet headdress. The
men were unarmed; but we were told that, further in the interior,
the Jews carry arms and join in tribal warfare; neither are they,
there, the oppressed people known to the lowlands of Morocco.’
Two of the stories related to Sir John on the march by the Sultan’s
stirrup-holder may be inserted here as exemplifying the manners and
customs of the officials about the Moorish Court, and especially
those of the military class. The first may be called ‘A Story of
a Moorish Prince.’
Mulai Ahmed, second son of Sultan Mulai Abderahman Ben Hisham, was
appointed by his father Viceroy of the districts of Beni Hassén,
Zair, Dukála, Shedma, &c. His residence was at Rabát.
This Prince was clever, and endowed with many good qualities, but
he was extravagant and reckless in his expenditure, and thus became
deeply indebted to the merchants and shopkeepers of Rabát; but no
man ventured to press his pecuniary claims on the wayward youth. His
debtors, moreover, had only to ask some favour by which they might
be benefited in their trade, and it was immediately granted by the
Prince; the favour thus conferred amply recouping them for their
unpaid goods.
On the occasion of a visit of the Sultan to Rabát in 1848, Mulai
Ahmed was still Viceroy. Various complaints had been brought by the
inhabitants to the Uzir, Ben Dris, against His Royal Highness for not
paying his debts; but the Uzir endeavoured so to arrange matters as
to avoid reporting the misconduct of the young Prince to his father.
One day, however, when the Sultan was going to mosque, an Arab from
the country called out, from a high wall—on which he had climbed
to avoid being silenced by the troopers who formed the escort of the
Sultan—‘Oh Lord and Master, Mulai Abderahman, my refuge is in
God and in thee! I have been plundered and unjustly treated during
this your reign.’
The Sultan, restraining his horse, desired his attendants to learn
who this man was; and, after hearing their report, sent for the Uzir
and directed him to inquire into the case and report thereon.
On the man presenting himself before the Uzir, the latter reprimanded
him for brawling in the streets for justice. ‘One would suppose,’
said Ben Dris, ‘that there were no longer governors or kadis in
Morocco! Whence are you? what have you to say?’
‘I am an Arab from Shedma,’ the man replied. ‘I had a fine
horse, for which I had been offered by the chief of my tribe three
hundred ducats, but I refused to sell; for, though a poor man, my
horse was everything to me; I would not have parted with him for all
the wealth that could be offered me. Some weeks ago I came to Rabát,
and Mulai Ahmed—may God prolong his days!—in an evil hour saw my
horse, and ordered his soldiers to seize it, sending me a purse of
three hundred ducats, which however I refused to accept. For forty
long days have I been seeking justice, but can obtain hearing neither
of Mulai Ahmed nor of any one else.’
The Uzir replied, ‘If your story be true, your horse shall be
returned to you; but, if false, you shall be made an example of for
daring to bring a complaint against the son of the Sultan.’
The Uzir then sent a messenger to inquire of Mulai Ahmed concerning
the matter, and by him the Prince sent reply that he knew nothing
about the horse. The Uzir was consequently about to order the Arab
to be bastinadoed, when the latter begged Ben Dris to send him,
accompanied by some of his—the Uzir’s—attendants, to the
stables of Mulai Ahmed, where he felt sure he would find the horse;
begging that his whole tribe might, if necessary, be called upon to
give evidence respecting the identity of the horse.
The Uzir accordingly sent the Arab, with a guard, to the Prince’s
stables to point out the horse, with directions that it should be
brought before him. He also sent to inform Mulai Ahmed that this
order of his father the Sultan must be obeyed.
The attendants took the Arab to the stable, where he immediately
recognised his horse, but had no sooner done so than he was arrested,
along with the Uzir’s men, by some soldiers sent by Mulai Ahmed,
and brought before the Prince, who had them _all_ bastinadoed and
dismissed.
On the return of the Uzir’s men, they reported to their master what
had taken place. The Uzir had them again bastinadoed for not having
carried out his orders, viz. to bring back the Arab and his horse
in safety. Then, mounting his mule, he rode direct to the palace,
where he recounted to the Sultan what had occurred.
His Majesty was highly incensed; his eyes flashed lightning,
and his voice was as thunder. ‘Dare any son of mine disobey the
orders of his father? Are my people to be robbed and ill-used at
his caprice? Summon the chief kaid of our guard.’
The officer appeared. ‘Take,’ said the Sultan, ‘a saddled mule
to the palace of Mulai Ahmed. Bind the Prince hand and foot. Conduct
him this day to Meknes, where he is to be imprisoned until further
orders. Let the Arab have his horse and an indemnity for the rough
treatment he has received. Let a proclamation be issued that all
persons who have been unjustly used by Mulai Ahmed are to present
themselves to me; for there is no doubt,’ added the Sultan, ‘that
is not the only case of injustice of which my son has been guilty.’
The orders of Sultan Mulai Abderahman were obeyed. The chief of the
guard appeared before Mulai Ahmed with a mule saddled and bridled,
and informed the Prince he was deposed from his position as Viceroy,
and that he was to proceed at once with him to Meknes.
At first Mulai Ahmed refused to obey his father’s commands, but,
on being threatened by the officers with fetters and manacles if
he showed any resistance, consented to mount the mule and start at
once on his journey. The third day they arrived at Meknes, where
Mulai Ahmed was confined in prison, whence he was not liberated for
five years.
Another story related by the stirrup-holder was that of Kaid Maimon
and the lion.
In the early part of this century, when Sultan Mulai Suliman reigned
over Morocco, Kaid Maimon was Governor of Tangier, and, according
to custom, had visited the Court at Fas to pay his respects to His
Sherifian Majesty. On his return journey to Tangier he was conveying,
in pursuance of His Majesty’s commands, a large lion in a cage
carried by four mules, as a present from the Sultan to the King
of Portugal.
One evening, after the tents had been pitched, and while Kaid Maimon
was reposing on a divan in his ‘kubba,’ he heard shouts of alarm
and the snorting and tramping of horses and mules which had broken
loose from their tethers and were fleeing from the camp.
The Kaid clapped his hands repeatedly, to summon his attendants,
but no one appeared. Being too much of a Moorish grandee to rise
from the divan and see with his own eyes what had happened—such a
proceeding would have been undignified—he remained seated, counting
the beads of his rosary and muttering curses on his attendants. After
a time he again shouted lustily for his slave ‘Faraji,’ with a
malediction on him and on all slaves.
The Kaid had barely finished these imprecations, when in walked his
huge prisoner, the lion, glaring fiercely at him.
Kaid Maimon was a man of undaunted courage: while realising it would
be folly for him to draw his sword and attack the lion, as he would
most probably be worsted in such a conflict, he was also aware that
even should he succeed in dealing the beast a death-blow, his own life
would be forfeited; as the Sultan would, no doubt, order his head to
be cut off, for destroying the royal gift entrusted to his keeping for
the King of Portugal. The Kaid therefore, looking as placidly as he
could at the intruder, thus addressed his namesake—for the lion had
also been given the name of ‘Maimon,’ or ‘the trustworthy.’
‘You are a brave fellow, Maimon, to leave your cage and take a
walk this fine evening. O judicious and well-behaved lion!’ he
added, ‘you do right to roll and enjoy yourself’—as the lion,
pleased with the voice of the Kaid, commenced rolling himself on the
carpet. ‘O bravest and most trustworthy!’ the Kaid continued—as
the lion, rising, rubbed himself cat-like against him, repeating
this very embarrassing performance several times, finally stretching
himself and lying down with his head on the Kaid’s knee.
Brave man though he was, Kaid Maimon perspired with horror at having
to nurse such a beast. He tried patting him on the head, but a lash
of the creature’s tail warned him that the lion preferred to take
his repose without such caresses.
Not a sound was to be heard in the camp, save now and then a snort
or struggle near the Kaid’s tent, from some terror-stricken horse
which, winding the lion, was endeavouring to break away from the
pickets which still held him—though most of the horses and mules
had broken away and fled, with their masters after them.
Kaid Maimon now began to consider what kind of severe punishment he
would inflict upon his cowardly attendants and his body-guard—if
the lion did not eat him! ‘Fine warriors,’ thought he; ‘two
hundred men to run away from a tame lion!’
At this moment the lion, having rested, awoke from his nap, and,
stretching himself, showed his long and terrible claws. ‘This
beast is not to be trifled with,’ reflected the Kaid; ‘yet if any
rascal had shot it—either in self-defence or to save my life—I
should have made him a head shorter.’
The lion now got up and, stalking towards the door of the tent,
lashed his tail; one switch of which caught the Kaid’s turban and
knocked it off. Calmly replacing it, the Kaid muttered to himself,
‘I hope this visit is now coming to an end. May it be the last of
the kind I shall have to receive in my life.’
The lion, looking out, espied the horse—still picketed near the
tent—which immediately recommenced its frantic struggles and at
last, succeeding in breaking away, was just galloping off, when the
lion, in two bounds, was on its back and brought his victim to the
ground—panting in the agonies of death, its whole side lacerated
and its throat torn open.
The Kaid, who had moved to the door of his tent, beheld this scene,
and thought it would be a favourable moment, whilst the lion was
enjoying his repast, to recall his cowardly attendants and troopers;
so going out at the back of the tent, unseen by the lion, he looked
around and finally espied his followers about half a mile off,
huddled together, with the horses and mules they had recovered.
The Kaid, on coming up to them, vowed he would bastinado every
cowardly rascal; but that the punishment would be deferred until the
morrow, as they must now return at once to secure the lion before
nightfall, adding—‘The first man who again runs away I will
bastinado until the breath be out of his body.’
The keeper of the lion was a Jew; since, in Morocco, Jews are always
appointed keepers of wild beasts, the Moors believing that a lion will
not attack a woman, a child, or a Jew—as being beneath notice. The
Jew was ordered to attach two long chains to the neck of the lion,
now bloated with the flesh of the horse, then to stretch the chains in
opposite directions and to attach them to long iron stakes which were
driven into the ground for the purpose. The trembling Jew, who knew
he would be cruelly bastinadoed should he fail to obey this order,
did as he was bid, and the lion, lying near the remains of the horse
he had been devouring, suffered the Jew to fasten the chains to the
rings on his collar, which was still about his neck.
When this had been done, a dozen powerful men were ordered by the
Kaid to fasten strong ropes to the chains, and by pulling contrary
ways to control and guide the lion to his cage, wherein a live sheep
was placed. By these means the lion was induced to enter his cage,
the door of which was then closed.
Kaid Maimon, who was well pleased at the recovery of the Sultan’s
present to the King of Portugal, forgave the conduct of attendants and
troopers, and, assembling the chiefs, related to them the incidents
of the lion’s visit to his tent.