CHAPTER XXII.

1876-1879.

Sir John’s annual leave was generally taken in the autumn, for,

as he writes from Tangier to Sir Joseph Hooker,—

We visit England every year, but prefer going in the shooting instead

of _the_ season, as to us, barbarians, we find English society more

cordial in their ‘castles’ than when engaged in circling in a

whirlpool of men and women in the ‘season.’ Our stay therefore

is very short in town, and this will account for my not having given

you a hail in your paradise at Kew. We probably go home in July;

if so, and you are in town, I shall call either on arrival or return.

In the course of these yearly holidays he was entertained by many

royal and distinguished personages, with some of whom he had become

acquainted as their host at Tangier; but no record of any special

interest is left of these visits in his letters. Thus in the year

under notice, he was present at the Brussels Conference on Africa,

by invitation of the King of the Belgians, who as Duke of Brabant

had visited Tangier in 1862. In the following November he was the

guest of the Prince of Wales at Sandringham, whence he writes,

‘The children clustered round me, and I had to tell many stories

of the Moors. Captain Nares arrived and dined. We passed the night

on the Arctic Ocean, and found it most interesting.’

Sir John always returned to the South before the cold set in in

England. This was merely from dislike of a chilly climate, after

years of residence under a Southern sky, and not on the score of

health, as may be judged from the following letter to his sister:—

Ravensrock, _June 24_, 1876.

Thanks for your good wishes on my entering the shady side of

sixty—_bright_ side I ought to say, for thanks to God I am as

hearty and strong as I was twenty years ago, though I have no longer

the speed of youth. Yesterday we had all the foreign society to play

at lawn-tennis, and I flatter myself, though only my third trial at

the game, on having been the best amongst the youngsters who joined

the fun.

Eastern affairs boded ill for peace in 1876, and Sir John, always

deeply interested in matters connected with Turkey, writes in July:—

The cloud in the East looks very threatening. I hope we shall not

do more than insist on _fair play_. If the Christian races are able

to hold their own, we ought not to interfere so long as they are

not placed under the sway of Russia or other Power antagonistic

to us. If the Turks succeed in quashing the insurrection, I hope

our influence will be exerted to prevent outrages being committed

by the Mohammedans. I do not believe in the resurrection of the

‘sick man,’ but I am convinced that Russia has done her best

to hurry him to death’s door. When the Blue Books are published,

we shall have much to learn, especially if our Foreign Office has to

defend its present menacing attitude before the British Parliament

and public. If England had looked on passively, we should probably

have been forced into war.

But the crisis was averted.

‘Lord Derby’s policy in the East,’ he writes, ‘has astounded

the foreigners. They all _without exception_ appear pleased to

see the old Lion growl and bestir itself, and Russia “reculer”

(“pour mieux sauter”). The policy of the latter was evidently the

system of administering slow poison. I don’t think we can prevent

paralysis of the patient, or his final demise, but we have done right

well in showing that we cannot allow a doctor, who prescribes poison,

to play the part of chief adviser to the patient. Let him live awhile,

and the course of events may prevent the balance tipping in favour

of our opponents in the East.’

Of Lord Derby Sir John entertained a high opinion. ‘I believe

him,’ he says in one of his letters at this time, ‘to be a

far better man and more thoroughly English than any of his Whig

predecessors—except dear old Palmerston.’

In the following year Sir Henry Layard, Sir John’s former

fellow-worker in Sir Stratford Canning’s time, was appointed

Ambassador at Constantinople, and he thus writes to congratulate

him on the appointment:—

_April 5_, 1877.

I rejoiced to hear that you go to Stambul pro tem.; for I have no

doubt the appointment will be hereafter confirmed, and the right

man will be in the right place.

As you say, it will be a very difficult post, especially as I fear

in these days an ambassador cannot look alone, as in the days of

Ponsonby and Redcliffe, to the course he deems would best serve the

interests of his country—and I may add of Turkey—but he must

seek to satisfy lynx-eyed humanitarians and others, even though he

may know that the real cause of humanity will not be benefited.

If vigilance, tact, and decision can gain the day, it will be yours.

I am, however, very far from rejoicing at your removal from Madrid,

and shall miss you much. Through you the evil machinations of the

Don have been thwarted. Had you been at Madrid in 1859-60 we should

not have had war in Morocco.

On the same subject he writes to his sister:—

Layard has gone to Stambul. He writes me that he has a hard task

before him; he will have to work in the teeth of humanitarians

who have done much against the cause of _humanity_ already, though

their motives are no doubt good. I have said from the first, Russia

won’t fight unless Turkey forces her. . . . Russia will get up

another massacre when she thinks the rumour suitable to her interests

and views.

And again later:—

I think Layard’s dispatch of May 30 excellent.

He has a most difficult task, but is ceaseless in his efforts to

prevent atrocities. I have no sympathy with the Turkish Government,

which is _detestable_, but I have for the Turks.

On the other hand, I consider the conduct of the Russian

Government—which has been sapping and mining for _years_ through

agents, Bulgarian and foreign, to bring about rebellion, revolt, and

even the very atrocities committed on Christians in Bulgaria which

she now comes forward as champion to avenge—as base, treacherous,

and detestable; her sole aim being conquest. Never shall I have any

sympathy for that treacherous and ambitious Power.

In the meantime Sir John, who still maintained his influence at

the Court, continued unremitting in his efforts to abolish abuses

in Morocco.

Just before going on leave in 1877 he writes from Tangier to his

sister:—

I feel sorry to leave this even for two months, but am glad to have

a rest, for as our young Sultan makes me superintend his foreign

affairs, I have no rest. We think of leaving on the 28th. I have

my leave, but I have so much work to get through I could not well

start before then.

I am striking at the _Hydra_, _Protection_, which is depriving

this Government of its lawful taxes and of all jurisdiction over

Moors. Lord Derby is making it an international question, and has

hitherto given me _carte blanche_.

Diplomatic operations proceed slowly in Morocco, and this question of

the protection extended by foreigners to Moorish subjects, which Sir

John had so much at heart, was no exception to the rule. To his great

regret his efforts to combat the abuse were eventually baffled. But

he foresaw from the outset that the prospect of success was never

very great, and says:—

I shall fight the battle, and if abuses are maintained, and this

Government is too weak and powerless to resist them, I shall fold

my arms and await events; I can do no more.

To the same subject he returns in a letter to Sir Henry Layard:—

The Moorish Government have very strong grounds for complaint and

for insisting on reform and the abolition of these abuses, which

are extending in such a manner that soon all the wealthy merchants

and farmers will be under foreign protection and refuse to pay

taxes. . . .

In my reply to Sid Mohammed Bargash, which I repeated both in French

and Arabic, I said that, though I had been thirty-two years British

Representative and was in charge of the interests of Austria, Denmark,

and the Netherlands, and though British trade with Morocco was greater

than the trade of all the other nations put together, I did not give

protection to a single Moorish subject not actually in the service

of Her Majesty’s Government, or in my personal service or that of

my subordinate officers.

The settlement of this question was one of the objects which induced

Sir John to remain at Morocco after his period of service, by the

new regulations at the Foreign Office, had expired. He writes to

his sister in the spring of 1878:—

I think I told you that I was informed by Lord Derby that my term

of service—_five years_ in accordance with decree of Parliament

about Ministers—had expired, but that the Queen had been pleased

to signify her desire that I should remain in Morocco, and hopes I

shall be pleased. . . . I only agree to remain until I have settled

the question of irregular protection.

The system of protection, as defined by treaty, was limited in

its operation. But, in practice, the system was extended beyond

all reasonable limits, and was capable of gross abuses and

irregularities. By the treaties of Great Britain and Spain with

Morocco, Moorish subjects in the service of foreign diplomatists

and consuls were exempted from taxation by the Sultan, and from the

jurisdiction of Moorish authorities. The same privileges of granting

exemptions were claimed by other Foreign Powers, and extended to

persons not in the employment of their Representatives. The results

were, that the Sultan was deprived of control over a large number of

his subjects; that many of the wealthiest traders, especially among

the Jews, were relieved from all contributions to taxation; and that

persons who were guilty of crime escaped from justice by obtaining

a place on the privileged lists of Foreign Representatives. To such

an extent was the abuse carried that, in Sir John’s opinion, the

Moorish Government was, by its prevalence, reduced to a dangerous

state of weakness. Moreover he felt that if the Foreign Powers

surrendered the privilege of protection or submitted to its careful

regulation, they would be enabled to bring the strongest pressure

on the Moorish Government to carry out much needed reforms in the

administration of the country. Unfortunately Sir John’s opinions

on this question were shared by only a portion of his colleagues,

and he saw that nothing in the matter would be finally achieved at

Tangier. He hoped, however, that a more satisfactory conclusion

might be arrived at, if a Conference could be conducted in some

other country.

‘I have suggested,’ he writes to his sister in June, 1877,

‘to Lord Salisbury that there should be no more palavering at

Tangier, where some of the Representatives have personal interests

in maintaining abuses, but that a decision be come to by the

several Governments, or by a Conference at some Court, a Moorish

Envoy attending. As the fate of Morocco will greatly depend on the

decision come to, and as its position on the Straits and its produce

must sooner or later bring this country to the front, I have urged

that my suggestion deserves attention.’

Sir John’s proposal was adopted, and a Conference was held at Madrid

on the subject of protection in Morocco. But the result was not what

Sir John had hoped, and he writes to his sister in June, 1880:—

There will be no use in my remaining to continue the imbroglio which

the Madrid Conference has produced.

The French policy has been _je veux_, and the silly Italians, who

really have no trade or interest in Morocco except to maintain its

independence, backed the French.

British and other foreign merchants claim now the same privileges as

the French, and they cannot be refused; so when each foreign resident

in Morocco appoints a rich farmer in the interior as his factor, and

this man is placed beyond the pale of the Moorish authorities and

solely subject to the jurisdiction of a mercantile consul, living

often at a distance of five days’ journey, you may imagine the

rows that will take place, as these factors cannot be selected from

angels, but from erring barbarians. However, as I said to a colleague,

‘My appetite has improved since I find my propositions have not been

accepted,’ for now my responsibility ceases, and when affairs take a

disastrous turn I shall say, ‘I told you so.’ It is sad, however,

for I had advised that when the Powers conceded the just demands of

the Sultan, it would be an opportunity for requiring that he should

introduce gradually reforms in the maladministration of this country.

In another letter he hints at a different grievance which he sought

to abate, but in this also old traditions and what may be termed

‘vested interests’ proved too strong for him and his allies:—

Lately we have had many meetings of Foreign Representatives,

and I have had to waggle my tongue, and my throat has suffered

accordingly. I have some trouble, being Doyen, and all the meetings

take place at my house. We are trying to get rid of abuses and of the

system of Foreign Ministers and Consuls riding roughshod over this

wretched Government and people and compelling them to pay trumped-up

claims. The German and Belgian are my coadjutors.

The commercial condition of Morocco showed signs, however, of

improvement, and the Sultan evidently intended to take steps for

giving security to the lives and property of his subjects. But these

signs of increasing prosperity were doomed to be only the heralds

of terrible disasters, as was foreshadowed in the following letter

to Sir Joseph Hooker dated February 23, 1878:—

‘We continue,’ writes Sir John, ‘to progress like the cow’s

tail, but one step has been made in the right direction. The Sultan

is forming a body of regular troops, and our Government is aiding

him by drilling squads at Gibraltar, who will act as instructors

to the “Askar” when they have been instructed and return to

the Court. With ten thousand regulars the Sultan ought to be able

to bring under subjection the wild tribes who only acknowledge him

as the Chief of Islam. There would then be better security for life

and property. This I hope would lead to the development of commerce

and resources of this country, but we travel at camel’s pace—I

may add, a _lame_ camel.

‘There has been a great lack of rain throughout Morocco. The usual

fall is between thirty and fifty inches; this winter since September

only three and a-half inches have fallen. The country is parched in

the South, all the crops have failed, and cattle are dying. In this

province the crops still look green, and a little rain fell last

night, but water will be as dear as beer in England if we have not

a good downfall. We fear there will be famine in the land.’

These fears were realised, and Sir John writes to his sister that he

had suggested to the British Government that his visit to the Court in

the spring should be postponed, ‘as minds of Moorish Government will

be preoccupied and my preaching and praying would be of no avail.’

In June he writes again:—

This country is in a very sad state. Robert[55] says the people

are dying of starvation round Mogador, and cattle and sheep by the

thousands. I see no prospect of warding off the famine, and fear that

misery will prevail for many years in the Southern districts, as there

will be no cattle to till the land. Sultan is said to be distributing

grain. Wheat and other provisions are imported from England and other

foreign countries. Bread here is dearer than in England, though the

crops in this district are good. Robert has appealed to the British

public through the _Times_ and Lord Mayor, but John Bull has doled

out his sovereigns so liberally for Indians, Chinese, Bulgarians,

and Turks, that I fear there will be very little for the Moor.

We have got up subscriptions here for the Mogador poor.

The famine was followed in the autumn of 1878 by an outbreak of

disease, and in a letter, written in October on his return from leave,

he says:—

Good health at Tangier; but cholera—or, if not cholera, some

dire disease—is mowing down the population in the interior. At

Dar-el-Baida, a small town with about 6,000 population, the deaths

amounted to 103 a day! but the disease is moving South, not North. The

rains and cool weather will I hope check the evil.

Great misery in the interior. There are reports that the starving

people eat their dead. This I think is an exaggeration, but they are

eating the arum[56] root, which when not properly prepared produces

symptoms like cholera.

The closing of the port of Gibraltar against all articles of trade

from Morocco had produced great distress amongst the poorer classes,

and the arbitrary measures taken by the sanitary authorities at

Gibraltar and the Spanish ports served to add to the miseries

of the population of Morocco. In addition to these calamities,

during Sir John’s absence the terrors of some of the European

Representatives led to the introduction of futile and mischievous

quarantine regulations at Tangier itself, which Sir John on his

return at once combated.

‘There is good health in Tangier,’ he writes in October, ‘but I

expect we shall have cholera before the spring. My colleagues during

my absence had run amuck and established a _cordon_ outside the town,

stopping passengers and traffic, fumigating skins, clapping poor folk

into quarantine exposed to the night air, and other follies. As I

said to them, “Why do you introduce _cordons_ in Morocco when you

don’t have them in other countries? It is only a source of bribery

and corruption. The rich get through and the poor starve outside. It

is a measure which only trammels traffic and promotes distress.”

‘A Spaniard, guard of a _cordon_ at Tetuan, was killed, and there

was nearly a revolution amongst the Mohammedans at Tangier. Then

an order came from the Sultan to remove _cordons_, and saying

Foreign Representatives were only empowered to deal in sanitary

and quarantine regulations by _sea_ and not inland. My colleagues

(except German—Belgian is absent) were furious and said it was all

my doing, and they have been baying at me ever since like a pack of

wolves, as the _cordon_ is taken off. The malady in the interior,

whatever it is, cholera or typhus, is on the wane, but deaths from

starvation are numerous.

‘Sultan is feeding some three thousand at Marákesh. Rain has fallen

in the South, but cattle are dead or unfit to plough, and the poor

have no seed. The ways and means of the Government are coming to an

end, and the little impulse lately given to trade and civilisation

will, I fear, be lost for years.’

On November 15 he writes again on the subject:—

The doctors at Tangier, Mazagan, and Mogador have now formally

declared that the prevalent disease is not _cholera asiatica_,

but that it has a choleraic character. The famished, weak, and poor

invalids are carried off, but if a person in comfortable circumstances

is attacked, a dose of castor oil, or even oil, cures them. This is

not _cholera asiatica_. There have been cases they say at Tangier,

but the mortality this year is _less_ than usual.

Gibraltar, however, continues its rigorous measures—thirty days

quarantine—and will not admit even an egg under that. I see no hope

for improvement until after next harvest. The poor must starve. These

quarantines increase the misery, for they check trade, and the poor

engaged in labour connected with commerce are in a starving state. The

German Minister and I are doing what we can to relieve about three

hundred people here. Robert relieves some 2,700 daily at Mogador.

It is pouring; what a blessing! All the wells in the town are dry. I

send a mile to get water: two mules at work, and my water-supply

must cost me two shillings a day.

Towards aiding the starving poor in the Moorish coast towns £2,600

were raised in London, and at Tangier in December Sir John writes:—

Last month six of the Foreign Representatives had a meeting, and

we decided on raising a subscription to aid these wretched people

to return to their distant homes. There are some four hundred. £60

was subscribed before the meeting broke up, and then we sent it on

to the Moorish authorities and the well-to-do folk—Christians,

Jews, and Mohammedans, and I believe the collection will amount to

£250. Clothes are to be supplied for the naked, provisions for the

road, and with money sufficient to exist on for a month, we send

them off to their distant homes.

We take this step to free Tangier from a crowd of wretched people

who have no homes, and who sleep in the streets under arches. You

can imagine the consequences in our little town, which had become

a model as far as scavenging is concerned.

Though in the Northern provinces the famine had sensibly abated,

in the South there was still much distress, and disease was rife

among all classes. On March 5, 1879, Sir John writes to his sister

with reference to his son, then Consul at Mogador, who had already

been dangerously ill:—

Again we have been alarmed by the accounts of R. The doctor who

attended him reports that he had a brain fever, which finished

off in typhus, brought on, as doctor said, by over-anxiety and

work in relieving the famished people. He was, thank God, on the

23rd convalescent: fever had left him very weak, and he is ordered

to proceed to Tangier as soon as his strength will permit him to

move. . . .

The Italian Vice-Consul at Mogador died of typhoid, the French Consul

was at death’s door. Poor Kaid Maclean is in a dangerous state at

Marákesh. Several Europeans at the ports have died of typhoid.

The atmosphere is poisoned by the famished people and bodies buried

a few inches below the surface or even left exposed.

We have sent off the poor, with aid from here, and as I happen to

be President of the Board this month, I am attending to hygienic

measures, and hope thereby to ward off the dread disease from

this town.

A curious incident connected with this time of anxiety was recorded

by Sir John. It is related here as printed in the _Journal of the

Society for Psychical Research_[57]:—

In the year 1879 my son Robert Drummond Hay resided at Mogador with

his family, where he was at that time Consul. It was in the month

of February. I had lately received good accounts of my son and his

family; I was also in perfect health. About 1 a.m. (I forget the

exact day in February), whilst sleeping soundly [at Tangier], I was

woke by hearing distinctly the voice of my daughter-in-law, who was

with her husband at Mogador, saying in a clear but distressed tone of

voice, ‘Oh, I wish papa only knew that Robert is ill.’ There was

a night-lamp in the room. I sat up and listened, looking around the

room, but there was no one except my wife, sleeping quietly in bed. I

listened for some seconds, expecting to hear footsteps outside, but

complete stillness prevailed, so I lay down again, thanking God that

the voice which woke me was an hallucination. I had hardly closed my

eyes when I heard the same voice and words, upon which I woke Lady

Drummond Hay and told her what had occurred, and I got up and went

into my study, adjoining the bedroom, and noted it in my diary. Next

morning I related what had happened to my daughter, saying that

though I did not believe in dreams I felt anxious for tidings from

Mogador. That port, as you will see in the map, is about 300 miles

South of Tangier. A few days after this incident a letter arrived

from my daughter-in-law, Mrs. R. Drummond Hay, telling us that my

son was seriously ill with typhoid fever and mentioning the night

during which he had been delirious. Much struck by the coincidence

that it was the same night I had heard her voice, I wrote to tell

her what had happened. She replied, the following post, that in her

distress at seeing her husband so dangerously ill, and from being

alone in a distant land, she had made use of the precise words which

had startled me from sleep, and had repeated them. As it may be of

interest for you to receive a corroboration of what I have related,

from the persons I have mentioned, who happen to be with me at this

date, they also sign, to affirm the accuracy of all I have related.

When I resigned, in 1886, I destroyed, unfortunately, a number of

my diaries and amongst them that of 1879, or I should have been able

to state the day, and might have sent you the leaf on which I noted

the incident.

A memoir of Sir John Drummond Hay, P.C., K.C.B., G.C.M.G., sometime minister at the court of Morocco · 第 22 / 26 章