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COMPLETE IN TEN VOLUMES ' — VOLUME ONE —
The McClure Company New York
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Copyright, 1901, by E. Burton Holmes
Copyrig-ht, 1908, by E. Burton Holmes
All rights reserved
PRESS OF
EATON & MAINS
NEW YORK
UKL
BIOGRAPHICAL XOTE
^Fr. Holmes has been asked to supply data for a biographical sketch. He replies that his biographj- will be found in his Travelogues, each being a chapter from his life of travel.
Elias Burton Holmes was born in January, 1870. in Chicago. In 1883 he became interested in photography, devoting much time to picture- making in the course of his earlier travels in the United States, Cuba, and Mexico. In 1886 he made his first European tour. In 1890 a second and longer tour of England and the Continent gave him the material for his first lecture, "Through Europe with a Camera," which he presented, as an amateur, before the members of the Chicago Camera Club. In 1893 he made his first professional appearance, presenting "Japan — The Country," and "Japan — Tlie Cities," at the Recital Hall of the Auditorium, Chicago, tlien introducing illustrations all in color for the first time in connection with travel lectures.
During the five following years the Burton Holmes lectures won in- creasing recognition in the cities of the ^liddle West. In 1897-98 Mr. Holmes established courses in the larger Eastern cities, then introducing Motion Pictures for the first time. In 1904 he appeared in England, lecturing on American scenic subjects at Queen's Hall, in London, then using the word "Travelogues" to describe his entertainments. He now appears annually in New York, Brooklyn, Boston, Philadelphia, Washing- ton, Pittsburgh, Chicago, Milwaukee, Saint Louis, and San Francisco, giving from ten to twenty performances in each city, presenting five new subjects every season.
In spite of the increasing demands upon his time for platform work, Mr. Holmes continues to devote from five to eight months of the year to travel and the preparation of his Travelogues.
TO
MY
THREE
FOREWORD ''To Travel is lo Possess tJic World''
In the forcuH^rd to ilic First Edition of the Travclogncs I took occasion to express my gratitude to the lecture-going public wlm. by their generous support given to the platform presentations of the Travelogues, made possible for me the journeys described in these ten volumes. I have now a new^ public to thank — the reading public — and to my readers I wish now to express my sincere gratitude for the favor with which they have received the Travelogues as they appear Ijctwccn the covers of these books.
It is difficult for one who, for nearly twenty years, has been traveling as a "deputy sightseer" for so many auditors and readers, not to feel that throughout all these long, busy, interesting years, he has had the best of the bargain. But I am encouraged to believe that the return I bring is fair and just exchange for the wander-privilege that I enjoy, and to believe as well, that not a little of the pleasure that I find in travel is shared by those for whom and by whose favor I travel and thereby '■possess the world." I ask notliing better than to be permitted to continue the work which, begun as a labor of love, has now become both a vocation and an avocation.
I wish again to acknowledge the delit of gratitude I owe to my fellow- workers, whose efforts have contributed in so large a measure to the success of the Travelogues : To Katherine Gordon Breed, who was the first to realize the possibilities of the art of coloring lantern slides: to Helen E. Stevenson, to whose exquisite skill and artistic discrimination are due the color-beauty and the convincing truthfulness of the illustra- tions of all the later Travelogues ; to Oscar Bennett Depue. who. since our first lecture, in 1890, has operated the projecting instruments with unfailing accuracy and skill — who since the introduction of Motion Pictures, in 1897. has devoted himself to the perfecting of the art of Cinematograpliy. and who has been for many years and in many lands the ever helpful companion of my travels, and to Louis Francis Brown, who. with business ability and tact, has directed the public presentations of the Travelogues. E. Blktox Holmes.
Honolulu, March 4. ifio8.
INTO MOROCCO
NTO
MOROCCO
T'
>HE transatlantic steamers, that every season bear so many of our fellow-countrymen from our own shores directly to the ports of Italy, pass, as all travelers know, through the Gibraltar Straits. Those who have sailed this course undoubtedly recall with a thrill of pleasure the morning when, after eight days upon the broad Atlantic, they waked to find on either hand the shores of a great continent, — the hills of Spain upon the north, and op- posite, the grim forbidding mountains of Morocco.
They will recall, as well, those
two gigantic rocky promontories which
guard the western entrance to the Mediterranean, — those
historic Pillars of Hercules called by the ancients Calpe
^.^^^S^
GIBRALTAR
14 INTO MOROCCO
and Abyla, — the rocks that for the men of that time marked the extreme western boundary of the known world.
For centuries Calpe and Abyla, sea-girt mountains torn asunder by some god of might, were looked upon as the very ends of the earth. Beyond them no man dared venture.
Calpe is now the famous fortress of Gibraltar, a bit of Spain held by the British Empire. Abyla, upon the shore of Africa, is now the penal colony Ceuta, a piece of Moorish territory, con- quered and held by force of Spanish arms. At the bases of these two mighty cliffs the waters of two oceans mingle ; for there the wide -^^^
Atlantic, the waterway of the new world, touches the historic inland ocean, around the shores of which are grouped the nations that have ruled the world in ages past. The narrow channel that links the seas together serves also to separate two lands so widely dissimilar that nowhere in the world may the traveler, with so little effort, enjoy a greater shock of contrast than by crossing the Gibraltar Strait from Southern Spain to Tangier, in Morocco.
In the space of a few short hours he may there go back a thousand years ; pass from to-day to a mysterious yesterday, strangely remote from us in life and thought. Within sight of the shores of Europe, within sight of the Spanish railway stations, within sound of the cannon of Gibraltar, he will find a land in which there are no roads of any sort, a people who still use in war the picturesque Arabian flintlock and the clumsy yataghan ; he will find' a remnant of the Middle Ages, so perfectly preserved by the peculiar embalming influ- ence of the Mohammedan religion that the Morocco of to- day differs little from the Morocco of the year one thousand.
By Permission
CAPE SPARTEL LIGHT
INTO MOROCCO
17
One of the most keenly relished moments of my life was the moment when that tin}' patch of white, at hrst so like a drift of snow on the distant Moorish hills, linall\' resolved itself into a city of stranj^e African aspect, and our ship dropped anchor in what the Moors are pleased to call the harbor of Tangier. At last we are about to touch the shore of the strangest, most inaccessible, and most mysterious land ■SI
A c^I^" I iKi'
I IK 11 1 ul- S.NDW
that borders on the Mediterranean. Algeria and Tunis have been modernized by France ; railways transport pilgrims to and from the Holy Sepulcher in Palestine ; Egypt is but an Anglo-Saxon playground ; Greece also has her roads of steel, her daily papers, and her parliament. But Morocco remains unique. Isolated from the world of to-day, and — thanks to that isolation — completely independent, the Empire of the Moorish Sultan has preserved the customs and traditions
i8
INTO MOROCCO
of its past, untouched by modern civilization, unchanged by Euro- pean influence. The land is to-day as it was, and as it shall be — at least until it be conquered by the in- fidel, and the throne of the descendants of the Prophet be overthrown by the enemies of Allah.
Meantime, the con- temporary devotees of Allah have taken cog- nizance of our arrival. Lighters are quickly manned, and we are treated to an excellent representation of the manner in which Christian ships were boarded and
I'lKATKS OR PORTKRS?
INTO MOROCCO
19
pillaged by Barbary pirates, in the day when the Corsairs ruled the sea, and all Christendom paid forced tribute to the Sultans, Deys, and Bashas of the Barbary States. A horde of turbaned porters and guides overrun the decks, seize indis- criminately all visible handbags, bundles, and boxes, and toss them, yelling madly all the while, into the boats which rise and fall alongside as the huge swells from the Atlantic
glide swiftly under- neath our ship. Emulating wise and pious Moslems, we decide to trust in
A RISK IN BEEF
Allah for the recovery of our belongings in due time ; and, while the battle of the baggage rages, we turn our attention to a neighboring cattle-ship, where the embarkation of its bovine passengers is proceeding with much celerity and con- siderable discomfort to the unhappy creatures. The horns of each steer are bound with rope ; a hook descends, is engaged in the loops ; the donkey-engine snorts, and skyward go the astonished steers, two at a time, in attitudes painfully undig- nified. But painful as is this rise in beef, the worst is still
20
INTO MOROCCO
to come. To land the animal in the proper place upon the deck, fearless Arabs sei/e his tail, and by a series of vigorous yanks and twists cause the suffering creat- ure to alight with his nose pointed toward the pen in which he may leisurely re- adjust his elongated carcass, recover from his undisguised indignation, and console himself by watching the pre- cipitate arrival of some other steer with whom he may have had unfriendly rela- tions on the Moorish plains. Thus it is that hundreds of head of Moorish cattle begin their fatal voyage across the strait ; for vast quantities of Moroccan beef go to feed the lean and hungry Spaniard, or to supply the brawn and muscle of Gibraltar's sturdy English garrison.
Having witnessed the acme of this cruelty, we observe with comparative unconcern the unceremonious manner in
A TAIL OK \Vi
PERSUASIVE METHODS
IN TO MOROCCO
21
which the animals are persuaded to enter the h^^hters. A yelHn^ band of Arabs and nej^roes boost and shove the resist- inj^- brute up the ^an^phink and tumble him head foremost into an already crowded boat, where he re<(ains his feet as best he may. The thuds of fallinj^ bodies, the wild cries of the savage workers, continue until, the cargo complete, the craft puts off.
I 111-. Hl-.AL H
Looking around we find that we have neared the beach, above which rise the frowning walls of old Tangier. Formerly all passengers landed on the beach, and in rough weather the arrival of a tourist party was a diverting spec- tacle, the frightened passengers being carried from the toss- ing rowboats to the sandy beach upon the broad backs of native porters. These porters are invariably Jews, for we are given to understand that no self-respecting Moslem would bend his back to so vile a burden as the carcass of a "Chris- tian do":. ' ' We almost rejjret the tameness of our own
22
INTO MOROCCO
arrival, for. thanks to a comparatively calm sea, our boats are able to approach the little pier, and to land us without danger or discomfort save that occasioned b}' the pressing curiosity of the crowd assembled to watch the coming of the money- spending infidel.
The pier, by the way, represents the one harbor-improve- ment grudgingly executed by the Moors. The harbor of Tangier could be made most secure at small expense, but the Moors prefer not to tamper with it. ' ' God made it so, ' ' they tell us ; " we would not presume to altar the wise arrange- ments of the Almighty." They did not even attempt to repair the old breakwater built by the English years ago and blown up by them upon the close of the brief British occupa- tion. The mention of a British occupation recalls a bit of history. Tangier was taken by the Portuguese in 1471. By them it was held until a Portuguese princess, Catarina of Bra- ganza, went to England as the bride of Charles the Second. She brought to him a splendid dower, including two then
INTO MOROCCO
23
unimportant pieces of real estate, — the island of Bombay in far-off India, and this city of Tangier at the Mediterranean's western gate. Strange indeed the fate of these two bits of real estate. Bombay, the hopeless, far-away possession, became in time the glorious Indian Empire. Tangier, with its unrivaled situation at one of the great doorways of the western world, was held for twenty years, and then, through sheer stupidity, abandoned to barbarism. It was returned by England to the Moors as a free gift ; a transaction almost unique in Britain s history. But we must not forget that Gibraltar was not yet a cushion for the British lions paw; had it been so, another paw would have rested firmly on this Moorish shore, insuring to England absolute control of the Gibraltar Strait.
But if the Anglo-Saxon armies long since relinquished this invaluable prize, the Anglo-Saxon tourist has made Tangier his own. Ha^'ing passed the solemn Moors who sit at the water-gate at receipt of custom, we find ourselves in a trough-like passage above which rises that stronghold of the
24
INTO MOROCCO
globe-trotter, the Continental Hotel. It appears like a huge grin upon the frowning face of the walled city ; and its hos- pitable and cheery aspect contradicts the hostile impression produced by the cannon on the ramparts and the scowling looks of some of the inhabitants.
Let not the tourist be disappointed because a modern structure first obtrudes itself. Tangier is not the real
Morocco ; it is a Moslem seaport, defiled by c o n - tact with an in- fidel world.
The late Sul- tan of Morocco disowned the city. When last he came and be- held the changes wrought by for- eigners, it is said that he exclaim- ed: " Allah con- found these greedy Chris- tians ! — they have stolen from me my beautiful Tangier!"
The crowd we see near yonder doorway is gath- ered by a distri- bution of pennies
Mil-: CONTINKNTAI. HOTKI. tO lUQ pOOr, '
INTO MOROCCO
27
an act of charity performed every week by the officials of the custom-house. How superbly important seems the white robed Moor charged with the graceful task of pressing into every outstretchetl dirt}' palm a shining Spanish copper worth about two cents, while his assistant keeps his eyes well open to detect repeaters. Every now and then there is a lively row, resulting from the detection of some clever unfortunate,
A CROWD OF MENDICANTS
who has changed rags with a fellow pauper, and has complacently applied for a second dose of governmental generosity. Utter poverty and black misery are depicted upon the rags and visages of the expectant throng — even the babies wear oldish, knowing expressions on their little faces. A strange feature is the curious little pigtail worn by the boys, — a pigtail growing all awry, sprout- ing, not from the crown, but from one side of the head. The pigtail is an agent of salvation ; on it depends the
28
INTO MOROCCO
PENNIES FOR THE POOR
hope of heaven ; for we are told that at the day of judgment Allah is to lift the righteous faithful by their pigtails into paradise. Apro- pos of this state- ment and other statements heard in the course of our journey, it may be well to quote an Arab maxim: " Never believe all you hear; for he who believes all he hears often will believe that Avhich is not." Another maxim from the same source contains excellent advice for the traveler, and much comfort for the lazy: " Do not do all that you can; for he who does all he can, often will do that which he should not. " Another is a pearl of great price to the returned traveler especially: " Do not say all you know; for he who says all he knows often will say that which he knows not." There is yet a fourth gem of Arabian wisdom with a similar setting: " Do
not spend all you have; for he who spends all he hath, often will spend that which he hath not. "
The arrival in Tangier is
unlike that in any other city
in the world. Every native
face is a type, every group a
picture. We begin to
vERNMENTAL love thc dirt, the smells
.I.NEROSITY
INTO MOROCCO
29
(not all bad ones, by any means, merely strange foreign smells suggestive of what old and Oriental , and as we make our way into the perplexing maze of Tangier's weird little alleys, we seem to have taken a journey backward through the ages. Our sensations might be those of one suddenly transported from this familiar earth to a strange planet ; and yet the hills of Spain are seen across the straits. A group of water-carriers earnestly discussing some important piece of news that probably will never be published to the Christian world, forms a picture almost Biblical in its antiquity. They are retailers of that prec- ious beverage, — the beverage of all the worshipers of Allah, — the true gift of God, pure water. We can forgive the Moslem man\' things, because he never has been, and, so long as he clings to the religion of his fathers, never will be, a drunkard. The water-bags are goat-skins, the long neck serving as a faucet ; but although we are as thirsty as the African sun itself, we do not patronize these itinerant fountains ; being newly come to Tangier, our squeamishness interferes with an indulgence in man\' little comforts ; but what a surprising revolution will be worked by an expedition into Morocco ! We shall return from the interior with adamantine sensibilities as regards such trifles. But to-day we are open to impressions of all kinds. So
COMRADES IN POVERTY
30
INTO MOROCCO
dazed are we by the stranj^eness of our surroundings that we have left no words with which to express our dehght when, stepping out at last upon the balcony of our hotel, we look down upon Tangier, the ' ' White City of the Straits. ' ' Below us is the beach, dotted with the rude camps of pilgrims who are awaiting ships for Mecca; above it are tiers of batteries; beyond we see a mass of white cubes, the dwelling-houses of
wA I );r carriers
the Moors. A dainty minaret, green-tiled and graceful, rises from this angular snow-bank; near it, the flags of foreign nations float above their respective consulates and legations. Strange indeed this mingling of the Occi- dental and the Oriental, beautiful indeed this city of Tangier, the sentinel city of Morocco, posted here at the corner of Africa to watch with jealous eyes for the coming of the inevitable conqueror who is to sally forth from the gates of Christendom, dimly discerned across the Gibraltar Channel. Of small account will be these batteries, furnished with anti-
4
i
INTO MOROCCO
33
quated cannon. These crippled do^s of war rend nothing more tangible than air, and daniaj^e nothing but ear-drums. And frequently is the air rent, and the ear assaulted, for the arrival of every man-of-war is greeted with a ferocious salvo of artillery, at sound of which the Moors gaze proudly sea- ward, expand their chests, recall the days when Moorish corsairs ruled the seas, and dream of future victories for the armies of the Prophet.
The sunshine in this land is wonderful ; at seven in the morning it is so brilliant that we cannot bear the reflection from the chalky housetops, and recover the use of our eye- sight only when in the dark and narrow corridors that serve the Tangerines in lieu of streets. The thoroughfare which every visitor must traverse when going from the hotel to the great or lesser market-places, is distinctly banal in aspect. It is the leading shopping street of the European resi-
THE WHITE CITY OF THE STKAII!
34
INTO MOROCCO
dents ; its shops are stuffed with canned provisions, patent- medicines, and playing-cards, while a saloon or two make known their presence, even to the blind, by strong gin-like aromas wafted thence. When lost in the laby- rinthine maze of Moorish Tan- gier, the foreigner has but to follow his nose to reach the place where rum and brandy are on sale, and European civilization w^ell in evidence. Then he may emerge into the lesser market-place, or " Soko, " as it is called in local speech. Here he finds one tiny French cafe and the postal stations of England, Spain, and France ; for as Morocco's postal-service is on a par with its other govern- mental enterprises, these nations each maintain post-offices in Tangier and an elaborate courier service in the interior. European mails now penetrate to Fez, even to Mequinez and Morocco City, with tolerable dispatch and certainty.
While we refresh ourselves at the cafe, we are amused by the ape-like antics of a negro from the far-away province of Suss. His wig of wool is hung with shells and teeth and nails, all of which clatter as he dances to the music of a pair of iron castanets.
THE STREET OF EUROPEAN SHOPS
INTO MOROCCO
35
But he cannot compare in picturesqueness with this other visitor — a superb representative of the saintly beggar class. So imposing a revelation of dignity in rags it is not possible to find among men of any other race or creed. We learn that this haughty mendicant is crazy ; that in Morocco, insanity is the most valuable asset of those who desire to engage in what European residents irreverently term the "saint business. " The Moors are convinced that if the mind of a man inhabit not his body, it is because God, having discerned in that mind much beauty of holiness, retains it in paradise as a thing too precious to be sent with the man to earth. Therefore great consideration should be shown for the mortal coil pertaining to
THE CAFE IN THE LITTLE SOKU
36
INTO MOROCCO
that mind. Thus " cra;iy " has become a synonym for "sanctified, " and an insane man has but to mumble prayers, and watch his saner fellow-citizens vie with one another in propitiating him with gifts and offerings. But sometimes this insanity is only feigned, and some of these weird charac- ters are in reality agents of the militant Moslem brotherhoods of Tripoli and Tunis, charged with the spreading of a Mohammedan propaganda and the keeping alive of bitter anti-Christian agitation.
If we follow this splendid iiiiscrablc, we shall pres- ently lose sight of him in the confusion of the be-draped, be-hooded crowd surging through the upper gate that opens toward the greater market-place, or " Soko, " on the high ground behind the city. The women are closely veiled and buried in the ^^^^fti- ' '-«-\S^ . smothering folds
of the white ^^^^^ \ woolen
" haik. " ^r All rich
SINGING NKGRO FROM IHK SUSS
1
INTO MOROCCO
37
#
. M r\ IN kA(,s
men wear the colored caftan, or the white burnoose, and some are draped in muslin veils ; the poor men wear the rough brown jelaba, a sack-like garment with a pointed hood. On feet that are not bare are yellow slippers ; on the heads, a red fez, a white turban, or a monkish-looking hood.
The Soko on Thursday or on Sunday (local market-days) is a sight to be remembered. The market-place itself is, literally, out of sight ; during the night and early morning, living things, from men to mules, from women to camels, and things inanimate, from eggs to beef and mutton, from oats to olive oil, have been gathered together, spread out, heaped up, forming a mass that moves and gives forth cries and odors. Twice every week the sun looks down upon a scene like this. Here in the Soko is the true frontier between the Christian and the Moslem worlds. Here is the border- land of the real Africa ; here couriers from Fez and from the desert region farther south meet the postmen of the European
38
INTO MOROCCO
vserviccs; here siircfes the murky tide of African humanity ; here breaks the last sun-crested wave of continental civilization ; here top-hats and turbans mingle ; here Europe ends and Africa begins.
From the windows of the legation of a European nation which open upon the Soko, there are wafted lively measures of piano melody ; and these are al- most drowned by the prayers of beggars, the vociferations of the trading throng, and the incantations of half-crazy conjurors. Conquering our first emotion of aversion, almost of fear, we press through the ill- smelling, yelling crowd, and work our way to the front rank
A SPLENDID Miserable
THE BE-DRAPED, BE-HOODED CROWD
INTO MOROCCO
111 l;( i|.:M kl \\: i • .1 i 111-: K|-,AI. Al- KirA
of a magician's audience. The conjuror welcomes us with curses, and refuses to continue his performance until our
40
INTO MOROCCO
A CVRSING CO.NJLKCJK
|W. , |E \ ^^ "^^ lowered, and our
offering of money has been cast into the ring of specta- tors. Then, muttering strange prayers, he gathers from the ground a handful of straw, calls on his god, and on the gen- erosity of the onlookers, and blowing upon the straw causes it miraculously to burst into flames, which instantly consume it. More offerings are then demanded, more prayers are said, and more unflattering remarks are made concerning us ; for to curse and to insult a Christian is a pious deed. Another trick is performed: A youth is (supposedly) hypnotized, and while he seems unconscious, a long bodkin is thrust through the flesh of his throat and the ends left protruding, while the old fakir takes up the most successful collection of the afternoon. Because we do not give more silver coins instead of Moorish coppers, the holy wonder-worker exhausts his stock of anti- Christian expletives, much to the edification of his sympa- thetic congregation. So great is the hatred of Christians on the part of the lower classes that even the beggars return
MAY ALLAH BURN YOUR GRANDMOTHER!"
INTO MOROCCCJ
43
HYPNOTIZED !
curses instead of thanks, atoning for the sin of receiving unclean Christian money by calling down the wrath of heaven, not only upon our heads, but also upon the heads of all who are dear to us, or related to us, even unto the fourth and fifth generation of those who have preceded us and are responsible for our existence. One simple and popular anathema is, " May Allah burn your grandmother ! " Another expresses the wish that the wife of your great-grandfather may enjoy perpetual torridit}' in the nether world.
The blind mendicants beg in little companies of six or eight. One sightless horrible, standing, cries aloud for charity in the name of his companions. These are not
44
INTO MOROCCO
pleasant sights, but no true impression of Tangier can be imparted if we leave out of the picture the rags, the beggars, and the dirt. One more sad spectacle must suffice — that of an old beggar, shriveled by age, baked by the cruel sun, bent beneath the burden of many hopeless years, not even clad in rags, but merely covered with a mat of straw — a superlative expression of Moroccan misery.
Here we may recall the story of the English clergyman, who, touched at the sight of all this misery and ignorance, resolved to tell the gospel-story to the people of Tangier — to make a public exhortation in the market-place. With the greatest difficulty he secured a capable interpreter, for most of the hotel guides feared to assist him in his rash and dangerous crusade. When the pious preacher began his sermon 'in the market-place, he was not only surprised, but thoroughly delighted at the reverence with which his glowing ' 'Ti V*^l^'''t\ "I 'llii 1^'' words, translated by
A PliTTY I RANEACTIO.N
IMU MOROCCO
45
MOROCCAN MISKKY
his guide, were received by the atten- tive throng of Moslems. When he had finished, he was even urged to speak again. Undoubtedly the good man car- ried away a soul filled with joy because of the good seed he had planted here. One English news- paper chronicled the marked interest shown by the heathen in the words of Christian truth ; but it is to be hoped that the good man will never learn that while he stood in the center of this meeting place and spoke, his diplomatic interpreter and guide not only held the respectful ears of the crowd, but possibly saved the missionary's life by cleverly turning the orthodox sermon into one of the favorite romances from the "Arabian Nights. "
No, it is virtually impossible to turn the Moslem from the faith of his fathers. His religion forms too intimate a part of
A SYNDICATE OF BLIND BEGGARS
46
INTO MOROCCO
his daily life ; his religious fasts and festivals are observed with a strictness that is absolute. We chanced to witness the celebration of the great feast called Aid-el-Kebir. The early morning finds us on a hillside near the market, where there is gathered a multitude of spectral forms. Here the slanting rays of the newly risen sun draw out all shadows to a grotesque length, while from the midst of the assemblage
MOSLEM SALVATIONISIS
there bursts a cloud of smoke which like a veil conceals the wild tribesmen who are there performing a fantastic powder-play with old-fashioned noisy flintlocks. An hour later the populace repairs to the high-walled garden of a suburban mosque to witness the sacrifice of a magnificent ram. The ram, however, is not allowed to die in peace, for according to an ancient custom its bleeding body must be borne swiftly down through the city streets to the great
1
4
INTO MOROCCO
49
mosque in the lower town, where, if it arrives Hving, the omen for the year is pronounced good; if dead, the wise men shake their heads and prophesy disaster. Hence are the swiftest runners eniplo}ed to dash witli the dyinj^ burden across the Soko, into the city gates, down abrupt alleys to the other sanctuary. Like a host of madmen they rush past us, the sheep slung in a basket dragged by four men. Thrice do the bearers stumble, thrice is the bleeding mass rolled in the dust, thrice is the mad race resumed, the people urging on the panting runners with cries, and sticks, and stones. The sacriticial ram is dead upon arriving at the mosque, yet it is given out by the authorities that it was still alive. The
LBLRBAN .MOSglE
50
INTO MOROCCO
THK KASHA OF TANGIER
disorderly mob disappears through the arched portals of the town, and a dignified procession crosses the Soko. The Basha, or Governor, of the province of Tangier, with his mounted escort, is returning from the recent ceremony. Although his salary is only seventy-five dollars a month, this wise official, by strict economy, has grown very rich. He, like all the swells, rides a handsome mule; for in Morocco mules enjoy much favor and are preferred to horses for long journeys and for city promenades; in fact, for everything, save battle.
A feast is held in every house upon this sacred day, a sheep being sacrificed for each adult member of the family.
INTO MOROCCO
51
THE SACRIFICIAL RAM
We see many a woolly burden carried through the streets upon the shoulders of the purchaser. Other means also are employed for the successful home-bring- ing of the fatted creatures. One man will attempt to drag the balky ram by the horns; another, more clever, will seize the hind feet and shove the sheep along as one would push a wheelbarrow, the result being a wildly zigzag progress down the steep, narrow streets. Throughout the entire Moslem world this day of Aid-el-Kebir is celebrated. At Mecca, the fountain-head of the Moslem faith, a hundred and twenty thousand sheep are put to the knife at each recurrence of the festival. Even in Tangier the feast may be likened to an ovine Saint Bartholomew Massacre, a day as fatal to these woolly victims as is Thanksgiving day to the devoted gobblers of New England. The city becomes a mammoth butcher- shop; the gutters in the narrow streets run red with blood. To escape these little tragedies, we make our way up to the higher regions of the town, where the Palace of the Governor, the Treasury Building, and the Prison are found in close proximity to one another. We find the palace inaccessible, the treasury empty, and the prison full.
The prison externally is a blank, white structure, high and in sad want of repair. W'e enter a small vestibule, where several lazy guards are stationed; they indicate an opening in the wall, a window, protected by heavy bars and closed by a thick
AN OVINE SAINT BARTHOLOMEW
52
INTO MOROCCO
metal shutter. This, they say, is the unique means of ingress to the prison. No means of egress is required, for prisoners seldom come thence alive. A hasty glance through a round hole in the metal shutter reveals a filthy, spacious hall, crowded with animated mummies loosely wrapped in earth-colored tatters. We are told that no food is furnished to the prisoners save that which may be brought by pitying
THE ONLY DOORWAY TO THK PRISON
outsiders, friends of the unfortunates within. The govern- ment allows its victims the one privilege of reaching out through the little aperture for the bread of pity. Some of the prisoners make colored baskets, like those which hang upon the wall, and eke out an existence by the sale of these. The presence of a traveler becoming known in the den, baskets by the dozen come tumbling out to tempt him in charity to buy.
While it is difficult for a man to get out of the prison, it is absolutely impossible for a man to enter the harem of the
INTO MOROCCO
THE liAbllA S PALACE AND THE TREASURY
neighboring palace of the
Basha; but foreign women are sometimes presented to the Basha's wives. One feminine visitor reports that the mys- terious beauties examined carefully the details of her dress. " Oh, " said one to another, as she discovered that the white hands were gloved, " see! — the American lady has two skins upon her hands!" In reply to a question as to what little present might be welcome, one Oriental matron replied with much enthusiasm, " Ah, send us from your country some of those pretty little combs with the fine teeth — they are so much more useful than our coarse ones, and — we need them very much! "
Leaving the inhospitable palace, we descend to the one building of all Tangier, in which we are certain to receive a cor- dial welcome. The shield of the United States Consulate-Gen- eral dispels the Moorish gloom of at least one dim thoroughfare. Here in this land of despotism and darkness it shines forth like a symbol of liberty and light. The Consul-General, Dr.
56
INTO MOROCCO
J. J. Barclay, tells us with justifiable pride that his grandfather, the Hon. Thos. Bar- clay, negotiated the first treaty between the United States and the Empire of Morocco. He shows us two interesting documents; one, the Consular Commis- sion signed by George Washington; the other, the Exe- quatur granted by the Sultan to the first Consul of the young American Republic. The fol- lowing is a transla- tion of the Exequa- tur, made by the offi- cial interpreter of the Consulate - General : "In the name of God, the Clement and Merciful. There
is no strength or force but in God, the High and Eternal.
From Abdallah Mohammed, Ben Abdallah, in whom the
Almighty deposited his confidence."
AT THE U. S. CONSLLA I 1. GI;m;1<AL
IMPERIAL SEAL
"To the great President of the American States: I salute you with empressment, and hope in God you are well. The Ambassador, Thomas Barclay, has come to us bearing a prec- ious letter from the Spaniard Charles. We have read it, and
INTO MOROCCO
57
we understand all its contents in which you asked us peace with you like the other Christian nations with whom you have made peace. We accept your demand, and peace be between us on land and sea, and according to the Treaties you demanded from us. We have written this in our letter to you, to which I affixed my Sheriffian seal, and we have ordered all our em- ployees in my seaports to do with your vessels and merchandise that go to my seaports, as they do with those of the Spaniards, and your vessels can enter, and anchor with safety in any of my seaports you choose, from Tetuan to Wadnoon; they can also buy and sell, and do business for themselves, and they can depart. We have answered just like this to the great Spaniard Charles, who wrote me a letter on your behalf. I join with you in perfect peace and friendship. In peace. "This is written the first day of the blessed month of Ramadan 1200(1785-1786)."
THi; IIOMK iiF Mk. I'EKMlAKI-
58
INTO MOROCCO
To Dr. Barclay we confided our cherished plans for a journey into Morocco, and asked him to advise, assist, and guide us. He became most zealous in our cause; made light of the difficulty and danger said to attend the journey, spoke in glowing terms of the pleasures and surprises in store for us. Within the week all the formalities incident to our departure are complied with. The Moorish Minister of For- eign Affairs has graciously granted us permission to traverse the Empire of his Master, the Sultan of Morocco, and he has provided us with letters to many provincial chiefs, and to the Governor of Fez, the capital. He has promised us a military escort equal to our needs, and has called down blessings upon us, and has accepted the usual little token of our high esteem in the form of a pile of Spanish dollars. All this we owed to the good offices of Dr. Barclay, to whom also we owed
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""■"'jr'
COMMISSION OF CONSCL THOMAS BARCLAY SIi.l
INTO MOROCCO
59
a delightful glimpse of the gay social life led by the foreign residents and diplomats in old Tangier.
The hillsides round about the city are dotted with luxurious, palatial villas, in the drawing- rooms of which cosmopolitan gatherings d i s - cuss the latest continental news in half a dozen languages. Ac- cording to an English dictum, " Society in Tan- gier is split into three factions.
^^^Jj luC; U^_£xd£.I
' -<^*^J|c!,-i«._> ij^LaiJ
EXEQUATUR OF THE FIRST V. S. CONSl'L TO 1 \N. ;i ;
those who will know one another, those who won't know one another, and those who must know one another, but don't like to." There are artists, musicians, and diplomats, millionaires and globe-trotters, and ex-consuls and ex-ministers by the dozen ; for they say that when one has lived in Tangier, it is not pos- sible to be contented elsewhere. Therefore many men who come hither for a few years of diplomatic service, end by purchasing hillside villas and becoming permanent residents.
6o
INTO MOROCCO
A LAST LOOK AT TANGIER
Tangerine hospitality is famous for its freedom, but we have Httle time for social dissipations. Every moment is occupied in preparations for departure. A few days more and we are to leave this most attractive corner of Cosmopolis, bid farewell to friends, to comfort, and to civilization. The hotel will give place to the tent, the daily pony-canter on the beach to the long weary marches of our caravan over hills and mountains, in the region where there are no roads, where to-day is the same as yesterday. We are to voyage forth upon a strange expanse, where the ship of Moorish civiliza- tion, stranded upon the shoals of the religion of immutability, has lain rotting since the conquest of Granada.
It is but right that you should know something about the men upon whom our future comfort, welfare, and safety entirely depend. Let me introduce, first of all, the most faithful of guides, the most honest of dragomans, the cheeriest of companions, the cleverest of pathfinders, the best of cooks, and — the most amusing prevaricator I have ever known. His name is like all Moorish names, a mouthful, " Haj Abd- er-Rahman Salama. ' ' We see him hrst at the door of his
INTO MOROCCO
6i
dwelling, a bright young Salama at his side. We speak with him in French and Spanish, for his much-advertised command of English is monumentally inadequate. More- over in French he speaks like a gentleman, in English like a blackguard; one language having been learned in Algiers and in Paris, the other picked up f/om profane sportsmen, while serving as dragoman for pig-sticking expeditions. As for his name, we forget it altogether, and address him simply as Haj, the word " Haj" being a sort of honorific preiix, mean- ing Pilgrim, in other words, a righteous Moslem who has made the Holy Pilgrimage to Mecca. When it was noised abroad that we were thinking of a trip to Fez, the profes- sional guides of Tangier looked on us as lawful, tempting prey. One Jewish pathfinder proffered his services and outfit for seven English pounds a day. Then others came with other propositions, and there ensued a veritable rate-war in which tents figure in place of Pullman cars, and, in place of sixty-miles-an-hour locomotives, mules that travel only sixteen miles a day. And Haj triumphed over all competitors, not because he made the lowest bid, but because we saw in him a useful, clever man, full of re- source, one of the few Moorish minds able to respond to Anglo- Saxon sympathies. He is one who has bridged the gulf be- tween the Moslem and the Christian races, at the cost, possibly, of his orthodoxy and his hopes of heaven.
In violent contrast to him in these respects, is our mili- tary escort: our fighting-force, assigned us by the government and consisting of one personal
THE BEST OF GL'IDES,
HAJ ABDER-RAHMAN SAI.AMA
62
INTO MOROCCO
KAID LHARBI, OUR MILITARY ESCORT
unit — with dig- nity and bigotry and decorative picturesqueness enough for half a regiment. K a i d Lharbi, for such are his title and name, belongs to the Mak- hazni, or corps of ir- regular cavalry, the most orna- mental branch of the Moorish Sultan 's army. No traveler is permitted to go into Morocco unless chaperoned by a Makhazni. Kaid Lharbi will be for us a sort of living passport, his pres- ence at the head of our caravan assuring all persons that we are traveling under the protection of the Moorish govern- ment, and that offenses against us will be severely punished. Without this living token of governmental sanction for our expedition, it would be within the power of any local chief to arrest our progress, sending us back in ignominious captiv- ity to Tangier ; or, if he preferred, he could rob us with impunity. Kaid Lharbi is therefore a valuable acquisition from the standpoints both of safety and of picturesqueness. He is Moorish in the fullest sense; he thinks such thoughts and dreams such dreams as did his fathers half a thousand years ago. He carries a flintlock made in Tetuan, and is supplied with a lump of lead and a small bullet-mold, that in case of attack he may be able to cast the necessary bullets. The sixth day of May is appointed for the departure of our caravan. It is a memorable day for us, because it marks
INTO MOROCCO
65
the close of a lon^ period of doubt and uncertainty as to the possibility of undertaking^ the expedition, and because it marks the beginning of a new life — the entry into a new world, which is yet immeasurably old. The pack-mules in charge of the three servants have been sent on ahead to await us in the suburbs. Kaid Lharbi, muffled in his blue burnoose, has been stationed like an equestrian statue at the door of the hotel since early morning. Haj, the guide, is here, there, and everywhere, attending to the thousand and one little details and difficulties that always arise at the last moment.
\Ve bid adieu to our acquaintances at the hotel door. At last the start is made, we tile through narrow streets, cross the crowded market-place, and on its outskirts overtake the pack-mules and the muleteers. A few necessary articles, brought at the last moment by our thoughtful Haj, who would have felt himself disgraced had he forgotten anything, are added to the already heavy burdens of the mules.
THE DEPARTURE
64
INTO MOROCCO
Then at a signal, our men, the skeptic Haj, and all the rest reverently turn their faces toward the East, toward Holv Mecca, _^^^^^^^^^_ while Kaid Lharbi, his
ADDING THE LAST ITEM TO THE PACKS
head bent low over his horse's neck, intones an impressive prayer for the successful and happy termination of our journey. This pious duty done, the order for a forward march is given, and in single lile our little train of men, horses, mules, and donkeys winds its way out of Tangier, every hoof-beat of the animals taking us nearer to the Middle Ages. Gradually the suburban street becomes a lane, gradually the lane fades away, becoming a mere trail, and finally the trail itself, crossing a ruined bridge, loses itself in the roadless vastness of the Moorish Empire.
Never in all my travels have I more keenly felt that oppressive sense of separation from things known and famil- iar than at this moment. No previous departure by train or
INTO MOROCCO
65
steamer had ever seemed so definitely to break the hnk that binds us to our o\ni aj^e and our own civilization. Here, at the bridge tliat spans a dry and thirsty river-bed, all sem- blance of civilization abruptly terminates ; before us lies a land without railways, without roads, without fences, hedges, trees — without dividing lines of any kind, save long low ranges of barren hills and, in the eastern distance, the crests of savage mountains. Across this roadless empire we are now to travel for many days ; overhead there will hang at times a scorching sun, at times dark storm-clouds are to form our canopy ; around us is to stretch a savage, silent land. Before us lies a scarcely distinguishable track, worn b\' the hoofs of countless caravans in years
that are un- counted. But
^«r*«
Hh KIK.K
CIVILIZATION
for me, in the foreground of every Moorish landscape looms the figure of Kaid Lharbi. All day I looked over my horse 's ears upon Kaid Lharbi s back, his horse's tail, and his cloak of blue, his broad-brimmed 5
66
INTO MOROCCO
hat, such as are made and worn by the women of Tetuan, its brim so broad that colored cords are required as guy ropes to sustain it. That famous hat served both as a parasol and umbrella ; the image of its ex- pansive brim, flapping gaily in the breeze, or drooping gloomily beneath an avalanche of water from the skies, will never be effaced from memory. All day I looked upon that hat ; at
ACROSS THE ROADLESS PLAINS
" TWO HARD-WORKING HUMBLK SOULS "
night I saw it in my dreams ; and, at the journey's end, I acquired it by purchase, and it now hangs upon my wall, — a mute reminder of a memor- able ride.
Less picturesquely mounted, less self-important than Kaid Lharbi but far more useful, diligent, and kindly were the two hard-working humble souls who rode on little burros in
1
INTO MOROCCO
67
u
%t
I in-; }■ iksi HAi.i iM. i'i.A( I-.
the rear of the procession. On them devolved the hardest labors of the journey — to load the mules ; to drive or ^uide them all day long, frequently running along for miles on foot ; to help or urge the struggling, overburdened animals through the muddy ditches ; to unpack everything at night, set up the tents, build fires, tether and find forage for nine animals, including their own patient little donkeys — this formed their regular daily routine. Yet they are cheerful with it all, although sun and rain, health and sickness, must mean the same to them ; they must not rest on pain of being- left behind. Their names, as near as it was possible for us to grasp them, were respectively, Bokhunnur and Abuktayer, but which was " Abuktayer, " and which " Bokhurmur ' is a point upon which my friend and I could never quite agree.
DEVELOPING OL"R CANVAS VILLAGE
68
INTO MOROCCO
At a command from Haj, the caravan has halted. " We have arrived." adds Haj; "unload! pitch camp ! We are where we should be at five o'clock."
Here, then, is to be our first camping-ground, here for the first time we are to see our outfit set up in its entirety ; here we are, for the first time, to sleep in tents like the Bedouins ;
THE FIRST CAMP
to begin the new life that promises to be so strange and fasci- nating. With keenest interest we watch our little canvas village develop. At first we attempt to aid the men, but Haj sternly prohibits all effort on our part. It is not consistent with our dignity as great American scig->icHrs to stoop to labor. A mattress is hastily unpacked and spread upon the ground, and on it we repose in lordly laziness. Had we driven a single tent-peg, we should have lost completely the respect of our Oriental hirelings.
Three tents compose the camp : one large green tent of English manufacture for the grand sr/if/fcurs, two Moorish tents, for the accommodation of the faithful suite. One by one the canvas houses rise. The animals are tethered close
INTO MOROCCO
69
at hand. From the neij^hborinj^ village, raj^ged men brinji^ fodder for the animals, egf^s and chickens f(jr the foreif^n lords. These things, of course, are paid for, because, our expedition not being of a diplomatic or official nature, we do not enjoy the right to be served with the traditional " Mouna, " that is, we cannot levy contributions upon the tribes. Our letters of recommendation demand for us merely the protection of the village chiefs. When a great man, be he a native potentate or the ambassador of a foreign nation, passes through the land in state, all things are by the Sultan's command furnished him gratis by the people of each bashalik, or province. As the villagers gather in a silent, curious pyramid, to watch with deepest interest everything we do, to examine with uncomprehending eyes our mysterious camp-
;^^a-^iPtVi5«i:A.''-/ . /. d
A SII 1:NI , CIKIOI s I"iRA.Min
INTO MOROCCO
beds, our folding- chairs and tables, let me describe another custom that is observed during the progress of an oftkial expedition.
When the people of a village have a boon to ask or a favor to entreat from the Sultan at Fez, such as the release from prison of some fellow tribesman, or the recall of some too cruel tax-extortioner, a deputation of villagers comes in procession to the tent of the great man, and before the entrance sacrifices a heifer or a sheep. If the chief or the ambassador is inclined to grant the petition, or to further the purposes of the suppliants, he accepts the gift of meat and it is eaten b\' his escort. If he denies their request, he averts his face ; no man is permitted to touch the sacrifice, and it is left as food for birds of prey.
The camp arrangements being complete, and all things made ready for our reception, Haj proudly but anxiously invites our inspection of the interior arrangements of our canvas home. " Well done, Haj Abd-er-Rahman Salama ! " we exclaim, as a vision of coziness and comfort is revealed to us. \\'ell done, indeed ! No wanderer in a barbarous land could ask for more. We behold soft beds with fresh white sheets and pillow cases, bright rugs upon
" WITH IM ilMI'KKHKNDING KYES '
INTO MOROCCO
the turf, a tabic large enough for two, \w\\ spread with tempting food, and all this is wholly protected from the heat and cold and rain and wind by a tine triple tent, green without and pink-lined within, just like a luxurious boudoir. And now this is to be our home for forty long delightful days and as many nights. No matter where our camp may happen to lie, on the barren hillside, in the fertile plain, or on the outskirts of a dirty town, this cozy corner will be always the same. No matter how wild and hostile are the surrounding scenes, we have but to draw the tent-flaps close "HAj" IN jov to find ourselves delightfully r/ic^
?iot(s. And furthermore, we are just as well served as in an excellent hotel, for although we lack the convenient electric-button, yet we have a perfect substitute in the person of Achmedo al Hishu, our valet, groom, and butler. Achmedo is not handsome, but he is indispens- able ; he is always at hand, answering jHp^^ a call before it is made, satisfying a ^T want as soon as it is felt. He speaks a kind of Tangerine servant language ; i a mixture of Spanish, French, and English, startling at times, but always comprehensible. His one fault is a fondness for the pipe, in which he smokes — not comparatively innocent "achmedo'
74
INTO MOROCCO
OUR CANVAS HOUSES
tobacco — but the nerve-deadening weed called " keef. " Moreover, we observe him to be a great imbiber. As he rides across the plain, proudly seated on the summit of a baggage-pack (beneath which the poor mule is scarcely visible), Achmedo may be seen to lift a bottle reverently to his lips, three times to every mile. We marveled that he could preserve his equilibrium day after day, until we dis- covered the nature of the contents of that bottle — cold tea, flavored with mint and sugar.
A word more about our invaluable Haj Abd-er-Rahman Salama, whose dusky face reflects the anxiety that fills his soul as he awaits our verdict upon the first meal prepared by him. He claimed to be himself a skillful chef, and insisted that he be allowed to manage the commissary department without interference. We reluctantly intrusted our gastronomic welfare to this homely heathen, and through- out the day visions of hard-tack and rancid bacon haunted our hungry souls. We scarcely dared to hope for better fare, furnished, as it was to be, by this cunning caterer, who has us completely in his power. He is free to starve or stuff us ; no power can touch him now. If he prove faithless, we must suffer ; we are his slaves for forty days ; he is our
INTO MOROCCO
75
master, we must ^o whither he leads, for we are in an unknown country ; we must eat that which he provides, for we are in an empty hind.
But when dinner is served, we enthusiastically declare that Haj is the best cook south of Paris ; and at this his handsome features are convulsed into a smile of proud and happy satisfaction. The dinner served on that tirst evening in our camp was a culinary triumph ; a perfect little table d'hote : consomme ; fish, fresh from the basket of a Tangier fisherman ; sweetbread croquettes ; broiled chicken ; salad ; blancmange, cooled in a neighboring stream ; a sip of Turkish coffee, a little glass of benedictine, and then a cigarette. All this prepared and served in a little tent pitched far from town or city in the midst of the somber Moorish plain. How it was possible for Haj to turn out from his tiny can\-as kitchen, and with his crude utensils, dishes so varied and delicious, was an enduring mystery to us, but we fared sump- tuously throughout the journey. We lived in greater com- fort and were better served than in the French hotels of Algeria or the big hotels of Spain, and we dined as well as
OVER THE RED HILL
76
INTO MOROCCO
on the Paris boulevards ; and for all this, we paid a price ridiculously low. Haj provided the entire outfit, — two horses, five mules, two donkeys, and three tents ; paid wages to three servants, baksheesh to the military escort, furnished all provisions, cooked for us, schemed for us, guided us, — all for twelve dollars daily and a present at the journey's end. Beyond this small sum we spent not a penny, save for the purchase of some little souvenirs.
On the second morning, dark, lowering clouds obscure the heavens ; yet, despite the threat of a stormy day w^e break camp, a task requiring about two hours of hard labor for our men. Our animals are loosed and roam at will, browsing upon the fresh sweet clover. The men of the neighboring village, who have been guarding the camp since evening, return to their huts at daybreak ; all night they sat in groups around our tents, chanting or mumbling prayers to keep themselves awake. We reward them w'ith a present of silver coins, which they accept w'ith greedy eyes. At last, the countless things pertaining to the camp being all stowed securely in the broad packs, we bid farewell to our first Morocco halting-place and begin w^hat, we have been told, will prove the most disagreeable stage of the entire journey — the crossing of the Red Hill ; an experience dreaded by all caravans, especially in rainy weather. And /«»^ rightly unpopular is /*S^' it, this trail of
NEVER MORE THAN TWENI V MILKS A DAY'
INTO MOROCCO
17
broken rock and slimy reddish clay, where at every step our horses stumble or slip, where every now and then a pack mule, fixing the forefeet firmly, goes glissading swiftly down the hill, until, over-balanced by its enormous burden, it literally capsizes, and lies helpless in the mire while the crew jettisons the cargo, rights the poor hulk, re-ballasts it, and steers it down the dangerous channel, using the tail as rudder and sharp- ened sticks as inspiration. Frequent heavy downpours of rain add to our discomfort, drenching us to the skin and threatening to shipwreck our hopes of reaching camp with tents and baggage dry. But suddenly, an hour after we reach the plain, the sky is cleared and swept com- pletely clean, as if a great sponge had wiped away the rain clouds ; and then a beaming sun quickly dries men and ani- mals and burdens, causing us to give off clouds of vapor until we can scarcely distinguish one another. And thus we jour- ney on, never faster than at a rapid walk, with frequent delays caused by the breaking of a strap, the balky temper of a mule, or by a deep ditch difficult to ford. We cover never more than twent}' miles a day. At midday we come upon the camp of the Basha of Tangier, and near it we make a halt
78
INTO MOROCCO
for luncheon. Haj informs us that the Governor has come up country to arrange a few official robberies, and to ad- minister a little Moor- ish justice — a peculiar quality of justice.
The collection of taxes is, however, the Basha s most impor- tant business. The taxpayers are assem- bled around his tent, and pay in money, in subjects of the sultan
produce, and in cattle. The assessment varies according to the visible possessions and apparent prosperity of the victim. No wise subject of the Moorish Sultan ever boasts of his possessions. All feign poverty ; for every man is allowed to rob the man who is next in rank below him. The poor man who can find no poorer man to rob that he may pay his due, is the one who suffers most. We saw a dozen such in the tent at the Basha 's camp, chained together, the neck of each locked in a metal collar ; the whole pro- cession was to be marched wath the music of that clank- ing chain to the prison at Tangier, many miles away.
There is no justice in Morocco. The head- man of a village squeezes all he can out of the nothing that his people have ; the chief man of the district levies on the village headman ; the chief pays tribute to the
PRISONERS
INTO MOROCCO
79
Governor ; the Governor cannot expect to hold his office unless magnificent presents are annually sent to some grand vizier of the court at Fez ; and every now and then we hear of the downfall of a grand vi;iier, who has waxed wealthv. boasted of his possessions, excited the cupidity of his sacred Sultan and paid the penalty, either by suffering the confisca- tion of his fortune and then exile, or perhaps by drinking, at the conmiand of the all-holy Emperor, a little glass of poisoned tea.
ALCAZAR-EL-KEBI R
We one day tendered in payment for provisions a Spanish dollar somewhat dim and dark. It was refused. "Give me bright shining money, " said the man who had supplied us with eggs and milk. "That dark coin looks as if it had been buried ; if I attempt to pass it, the chief will send his men to dig around and underneath my house, to see if I have more concealed beneath the floors or in the ground outside. "
Next day after our meeting with the Basha, we reach the first interior city of any considerable size, Alcazar-el-Kebir.
So
INTO MOROCCO
"Alca;^ar the Great," its inhabitants proudly entitle it, and in its time it has been great. Here there were fitted out, in the eighth century, the expeditions that went forth to con- quer Spain and Europe. Later it was taken and held by the Portuguese until that fatal day in 1578, when, on the battle- field not far from the city gates, the very tiower of the chivalry of Portugal fell before the fearful onslaught of the Moorish foe. At Alcazar, Portugal received the death-blow of her greatness. Before the loss of Alcazar Portugal was one of the world's great powers. This terrible defeat was the beginning of the end.
The city is unlike all other cities of the interior, for it was built by the Portuguese. It is not white, as are the Moorish cities, but all in dull greys, browns, and soiled and dingy yel- lows. In the bazaar we purchase more Moorish clothing — long white garments, far cooler than our riding-suits, and upon returning in our new attire to the camp, we are greeted effusively by a dusky gentleman who introduces himself as the Consular Agent of the United States. Unfortunately his
THE SULTAN MLLAi EL-HASAX IN TAXtTiEk
INTO MOROCCO
83
WE PIRCHASE MOKH MOORISH CLOTHING
kindly words are all
Arabic, of which wc dn
not understand a word.
Nevertheless Mr. Ham- man Slawi convinces
us of his good- will by
presenting us with a
pair of yellow slippers,
and manifests his ad- miration by sitting in
our tent and looking
at us intently for just
tw'o hours and a
half. Long calls
are the custom in Morocco, and when Mr. Slawi finally
departed, he left his son, a fat little chap, to continue
staring at us so that ight not feel neg- . And when the ^vas finally in- to go, the father sent the local symphony orchestra to serenade u s in the gloam- ing, with two insistent drums and an e.\ asperating fiute.
We are compelled to give these
MR. HAMMAN SLAWI, U. S. CUNSl LAK Ae.LNT
84
INTO MOROCCO
cacophonic tormentors a present to briniti: the concert to an end. A present, by the way, is an important element in every Moorish proposition. Presents are the lubricating medium used in the social and political machinery of this ancient empire. Acting upon the advice of former travelers, N\ e have brought with us many gifts for the kaids or sheiks or bashas who show us kindness, or from whom we may
desire to obtain favors. A dozen Waterbury watches are reserved for the men who are very great ; for lesser nota- bilities we carry other presents, among them, strange to say, all sorts of little toys, like jumping jacks, kaleidoscopes, and automatic animals. These are not intended for the children, but for full-grown men, hoary-headed chieftains who have a passion for such novelties. The Moors are at heart big children, with all the simplicity, deceitfulness, and passion of real children.
INTO MOROCCO
^5
And, like unfeeling chilflren, these people are often thoughtlessly cruel. They apj)ear not to notice the wounds caused by the heavy, ill-adjusted harness of the pack mules, or the ugly cut made by the brutal bit in the mouth of Kaid Lharbi s faithful horse. When we remonstrated with our men about this useless cruelty, they answered that the ani- mals are " used to it ; " that it is the custom of the country for mules to have raw backs and horses bleeding jaws. The Moslem firmly believes that "whatever is, is right ; " and we console ourselves with the assurance of the classic author who asserts that "the souls of usurers are metempsy- chosed, or translated, into the bodies of asses, and there remain certain years for poor men to take their pennyworth out of their bones. "
Later in the day we met with a curious experience. As we began the descent into a broad valley, we saw approaching
TRAVKLISr. THIS KIC.HT HOCRS KVEKV DAY
86
INTO MOROCCO
us another caravan. When it drew near, we discovered, with pleased surprise, that the man who rode in front was clothed in coat and trousers, evidently a European, a man from our own world, perhaps the only other white-skinned trav- eler in the land. We shook off the lethargy that results from a long morning in the saddle, and prepared to greet the stranger with smiles and questions, eager to give news of the living world to one who must have been buried for at least many days in this roadless land, eager to send back by him messages to the consul in Tangier. Nearer he comes and nearer, but as yet he makes no sign. Imagine, then, our blank dismay when the caravans pass one another on this narrow trail amid the yellow grain, and the stranger — a German merchant, as we learned afterward — rides past with his Teutonic nose high in air, without a side glance or a nod, without the slightest sign of recognition in answer to
INTO MOROCCO
•V
our smiles ; for so astonished were we that we could not speak. This exhibition of boorishness, I fear, f^ave our Moslem fol- lowers a sad notion of the love and good-fellowship existing between man and man in the world of unbelievers.
After receiving this cut-direct, we ride on across the grand free landscape, its lines unbroken b}' trees or houses, where grain grows wild and rots unharvested. In Roman times Morocco was the granary of Europe ; to-day the Moorish authorities prohibit the exportation of all grain. "It is not meet, " they say, "that the unbeliever should be nourished by the labor of the faithful."
Thus our days pass until, on the fifth morning of the journey, we halt in a delightful garden on the outskirts of the city of Wazzan. The word " Wazzan " perhaps means nothing to a stranger, but to a Moorish Moslem it is second
"WHERK GRAIN GROWS WILD
88
INTO MOROCCO
only to Mecca in sacred significance ; for as Mecca was the home oi Mohammed, the great prophet, so Wazzan is the home of the grand Shareef, the most direct descendant of Mo- hammed, the most revered personage in all Morocco. A connection, however re- mote, with the prophet 's line is a relationship that insures the respectful consideration of every Mohammedan. To be the most direct descendant, the grandson-many-times- removed of Fatima, the prophet's daughter and Ali, his favorite disciple, is to take precedence over Emperors and Sultans in the sight of every true believer. And thus the Shareef of W'azzan, upon whose holy city we now cast our profane glance, is a greater, holier man than either the
Sultan of Turkey or the Sultan lB^MMMa»|gMj^E^Sir^^ of Morocco.
True, these two emperors trace their ancestry back to the same sacred source ; but many true believers call his Turkish
DRUDGKRY
A WKI.J.
IN THE GARDKN NKAR VVA7.ZAN
INTO MOROCCO
89
majesty a renej^ade and backslider, while the fainilv-tree of the Moorish Sultan has been so bent and twisted, and its branches have been so rudely hacked and broken b\' re\'olu- tions, wars, and crimes that a majority of his subjects look askance upon his pretensions as Commander of the Faithful. Many of them secretly, some openly, acknowledge the Shareef of W'azzan not only as the spiritual head of the Empire, ^.,— ■ — ...^ but also as
TIIK SACRED CITY OF WAZZAN
its rightful temporal lord. Fortunately for the internal peace of the land the Shareefs have been content to exercise imperial power by suggestion, to receive tithes in lieu of taxes, and to leave to the Sultan and his ministers at Fez the vexatious details of the government and the semblance of absolute authority. So sacred is this city of W'azzan, so fanatical are its inhabitants, that we dared not enter its gates until a military escort sent by the Shareef came to conduct us to the home assigned us as a residence by that sainted potentate.
90
INTO MOROCCO
It cost our servants several hours" labor to clean the mansion and make it habitable. In the meantime, with Haj as interpreter and Raid Lharbi to lend dignity to our partv, we were escorted by a half-dozen ragged soldiers to the Shareef's palace, which gleams white in the midst of green gardens. There we were received with high-bred dignity and more than ordi- nary cordiality by the man as has been said, is
THK MARKET-PLACE
revered, from Morocco to Madras, as the holiest and greatest representative of Islamism.
We found the Shareef seated on soft cushions beneath a white pavilion in the midst of a luxuriant garden. Around him courtiers were grouped ; old men with long, white beards, young men with fierce, hard faces — chiefs of the neighboring tribes. The Shareef, a handsome man, black- bearded and completely robed in simple veils of white, bore his thirty-five years with dignity, despite a suggestion of indolence, almost of lethargy in his manner. Haj approached on hands and knees and kissed the Shareef's garments. We bowed and took the chairs which had been placed for our
INTO MOROCCO
91
comfort just outside the ion. The dialogue ensuin between our host and guide was deliberate, cordial, and much em- broidered with compli- ments, as is the custom here in good society. We, through our spokesman, thanked his holiness for his hospitality. He apologizes for the condition of our house.
Haj is instructed to ex- press our complete satisfac- t i o n . He translates our crude reply with Moorish tact and delicacy: "My masters, O Shareef. " he says, "bid me declare that
-^m^Sfm
Photograph by NeKon Liidington Barnc
OL'R "palace" in WAZZAN
"thk shareef's palace, white in the midst of green gardens'
92
INTO MOROCCO
to see thy face is so great joy that they have no thought of minor things ; illuminated by the light of thy face, the house becomes a palace, grand- er than their own palaces in foreign lands. " And this sort of thing is actu- ally taken seriously in Morocco! Then, re- membering that the pre- sentation of gifts is now in order, Haj continues : "O Shareef, so grateful are my masters for thy kindness that they beg thee to accept a humble present. The youth who w^ e a r s no beard gladly parts with his precious timepiece, the gift of his father, much prized by him, but still scarcely worthy thine acceptance." Whereupon my friend, with feigned reluctance, detaches from his watch-chain one of our stock of Waterburys, and, as if it had been a gold chron- ometer, an heirloom in the family, lays it at the feet of Holi- ness. Holiness graciously accepts the gift, and although he remarks upon the absence of a chain, is apparently well pleased. We are glad that h^ does not know that we have still nine " Waterbury heirlooms" left in stock.
The interview being over, we return to our residence to find our men indulging in their daily tipple — tea. Kaid Lharbi, sitting aloof as befits his higher rank, brews the tea.
VBi'J\ii\*.hwr y-in f,\ ffJ |"« %'
''■''^mm
INTO MOROCCO
9S
and serves it with much cereinon\' t(> tlie rest. Meantime Haj ^ives us some information rej^arcHnj^ the Shareefs of W'azzan. The present saint is, he assures us, a very proper personage, but his late father who owed his title to a clever ruse, was a scandal to the holy name. When his immediate predecessor was upon his deathbed, his ministers implored him to designate which of his many children should succeed him. The old man answered: " In the garden you will find a child playing with my staff. Him shall ye consider the one chosen of God to become Shareef. " At this, one of the negresses, a slave, slipped secretly from the room, and find- ing in the garden the favorite white child of the dying saint, snatched away from the little one the staff, and placed it in the hands of her own little boy, a jet-black imp, who also had the right to call the Shareef father. When the ministers appeared, they bowed low before the negro child, and upon him the mantel of impeccability descended; but whoever has gazed upon him as he appeared in later years will not wonder that the mantle of impeccability was not worn gracefully, and that it frequently slipped off. The charm of European life appealed too strongly to him. He forsook Wa.z- zan, and built for him- self a palace in Tangier, where he \\- i n e d a n d
Photograph by Nelson Ludington Barnes
THEIR DAILY TIPPLE — "TEA"
96
INTO MOROCCO
THE LATE LAMENTED SMAREKK OK WAZZAN
dined the foreign diplomats, and ended by falling in love with an Enj^lish governess. As to his liking for liquor, that sin was for- given him, since wine caimot enter the mouth of a Shareef — it turns to water at the merest touch of saintl\' lips. As to his love-affair, that was more serious ; for he married his English sweetheart, to the horror of his people and despite the pro- tests of the woman's friends. The mar- riage was not performed, however, until he had been forced to sign a contract, abolishing his harem, and making her his wife in a Christian sense. Moreover, one clause pro- vided that should he, "the party of the first part," in spite of all take to himself other wives in the future, a forfeit of
twenty thousand dollars should be paid, per wife, to ' ' the party of the second part." Alas, how many thousands of his great income went to balance this account, so rashl}' opened with his Christian spouse ! After a brief spell of good behavior, the husband fell back into his old ways ; marriages occur- red with startling fre- quency, and, finally worn out by his excesses, the ' ' holiest man in all Mo- rocco, " revered by Mos- lems from the east to
IN CONVERSATION WITH KAID LHARBI
INTO MOROCCO
97
the west of Islam, died from the effects of too frequently performiiif^ his favorite miracle — that of changing cham- pagne and brandy into water by pouring them between his sacred lips.
The English wife of the wicked old Shareef bore him two sons, now young men. They have been educated abroad, speak English well, and are distinctly up to date. Yet when they travel in Mo- ^^ ^^^ rocco they wear
the native ^^^ ^^^ dress, and
their jour- ^r ^V ney is like
a trium- / '^■^ x phal pro-
gress ; t .,t\ ^..\ all the
people '^^St^BB^^K/SSMBttffMm^mmB^r ■ ^^^rship them. ^^^HI^^HHBIv^^^^^^^B^ have seen
large crowds ^^^SBtB^^M^^K^^t^^^ ^" Tangier fighting only for ^^^^^^555^^^^^ ^ ^ ^ opportunity to kiss their gar- " bids is bkgonk •• ments as they
rode through the market-place. Neither, however, became grand Shareef on their father's death, for he appointed Sidi Mohammed, his son by a Moorish wife, the man to whom we gave the ^^'aterbury watch. The English widow- lives a very secluded life near Oran, in Algeria, but she is loved and revered by the Moors ; for while her in- fluence endured, she went about doing good, relieving dis- tress, bringing a little Anglo-Sa.xon light into the dark lives of her people. 7
98
INTO MOROCCO
And dark indeed nnist be the lives of the people in the villag^es near which we pitch our camp. Perhaps a woman would, with «,aeat vehemence, bid us begone, lamenting the desolation that will surely come to her village if the strangers camp under the protection of its chief. Her reason is that should we meet with loss from the attack of some wandering band of marauders, this \illage will be held responsible, and
Photograph by Nelson Ludinnton Barnes
" VKT FLOWERS AND BABIES GROW IN THESE MOORISH VILLAGES"
punishment for offenses committed against us will be visited upon those who, by the sacred laws of hospitality, are bound to protect us.
But disregarding prayers and threats we make ourselves at home ; and finally the women, reconciled, come with their babies to beg for aid and medical advice. Every white man is supposed to possess the power to cure disease, and many were the pitiful appeals made to us for relief and help. We
INTO MOROCCO 99
were askcfl to treat all kinds of maladies, but we discovered one unicjue and hitherto unknown ailment : * ' What is your trouble ? ' ' was asked of a man who came with sad- ness written on his face. "Oh! " he replied, " I cannot eat as much as I should like to." Poverty and ignorance are the common lot, yet flowers and babies grow in these Moorish villages. We have now approached a por- tion of the Beni Hasan territory, a region inhabited by a tribe whose chief jfUldlft^
pursuit is robbery, whose supreme joy is - ^■
murder ; and the placing of a guard around ""^ '^"'^ i.ookoit for advknture- the tent is no longer a mere formality. As yet, howe\er, we have seen no roving bands ; but next day as we file across the flower-spotted plain, we observe on the horizon a number of moving patches of bright color. With lightning- like rapidity, these flashes of color sweep toward us, each one resolving itself into a Moorish cavalier, well mounted, fully armed, and seemingly upon the lookout for adven- ture. These, then, are Beni Hasan men ! What will they do to us and how shall we greet them ^ is our anxious thought, as they draw nearer, brandishing their rifles, shout- ing as they ride. The first brief moment of alarm is, how- ever, quickly ended. The chief salutes us cordially ; asks Haj whence we come, whither we are going ; and then, desirous of showing honor to us ( for foreign travelers are always looked upon as men of great distinction), he offers to perform for us a fantasia. The fantasia is an exhibition of Arabian horsemanship, a sort of glorified cavalry-charge, a spectacular manoeuver, the favorite amusement of the Moor- ish cavalier, the exercise in which he takes most pleasure and most pride. It is called by him lab-al-baroud, " the powder
lOO
INTO MOROCCO
A SON OF HASAN
play." A dozen cavaliers, each cme a sava,i;e, lon,<4-haire(l son of Hasan, advance across the plam, their horses alined, breast with breast. They twirl aloft their richly inlaid guns; then, putting their chargers to their fullest speed, the riders rise in the stirrups, seize the reins between their teeth, and sweep toward us in swift majesty. On go the horses at full gallop, still accurately in line. Faster and faster spin the guns above the riders' heads ; now muskets are tossed high in air, and descending are caught by strong bronzed hands that never fail. On go the horses ; then the men, still standing in the stirrups, their loose garments enveloping them like rapid-flying clouds, at a signal discharge a rousing volley, and under cover of the smoke, check — almost instantaneously with the cruel bits — their panting horses, bloody-mouthed and deeply scarred and wounded by the spurs. This intensely thrilling and pictur- esque performance is rehearsed before us several times, the chief being proud of his little band of "rough riders." The men disdainfully examine our English saddles, our horses with docked tails, and laugh at our tiny spurs, for their spurs are sharp spikes three or four inches long. They mock- ingly challenge us to join them in another fantasia, and to the amazement of the chief my friend accepts the challenge. The long muzzle-loading rifles are charged again, and the entire troop, with an American in its midst, slowly canters away. Facing about, the horsemen form in line and begin to twirl their guns on high. Having no rifle, the stranger draws and flourishes an American revolver. Then, suddenlv, the horses
INTO MOROCCO
lOI
leap away, and like a whirlwind the fantasia is upon us. The muskets are discharj^ed; the revolver pops away, and then a mad race begins. Strange to say, the Tangier horse outruns the chargers of the plains, and we see the white helmet of the American flash past, one length in advance of the line of frenzied horsemen!
Chagrined at this defeat, the chief attempts to unseat the victor, charging directly at my friend, who, by a skillful move- ment, avoids a dangerous collision. Then, spurring after that boasting Beni Hasan tribesman, the American overtakes him, and throws an arm around his neck; and, as they dash on, locked in this embrace, my friend, with a voice that was trained in the Athletic Field at New Haven, shouts a rousing "Rah, Rah, Rah ! — Yale ! " into the ear of the astonished savage, and thus ends our adventure with the wild Beni Hasan band.
A NOONDAY RESTlNG-Pl-ACh.
I02
INTO MOROCCO
Reassured by the amusing outcome of this first encounter, we ride on toward our noonday halting-place. Our marches are so timed that at midday we may find ourselves near some patch of shade. Shade in Morocco is rare indeed, but as every tree and bush between Tangier and Fez is marked on Haj "s mental map, we are usually assured of leafy shelter during our noonday rest. Throughout the burning hours from
HAPPY MOMENTS FOR THE MLl.KS
noon till three or four o'clock, we lie at full length amid the flowers, carefully following the shadows as they slowly creep around the trees. The animals, relieved of pack, though not of saddle, browse dreamily, or roll in ecstasy amid the fragant grasses. Our men with Oriental resignation lunch frugally, sit and smoke in silence, or indulge in semi-slumber, with one eye open lest the mules escape. Then, after the sun's rays have lost a little of their torrid sting, we jog on once more in the com- parative coolness of the afternoon across the Moorish prairies.
INTO MUROCC(J
lO:
Space in Morocco is still a stem reality. The city Fez, to reach which we must travel thus during eleven days, could be reached by rail (were there a railway leading thither; in a half-dozen hours! Apropos of this, let lue repeat a scrap oi wayside conversation.
" Morocco is indeed a spacious country, " said I one day to dignified Raid Lharbi.
"It is the biggest country in the world." gravely replied the Raid. Then gently I endeavored to disabuse his min<l of this impression by telling of the vastness of the territory of the United States.
"But how long does it take to cross your countrv?" he inquired.
We travel hve days in fast trains to go from San Fran- cisco to New York, " I answered.
" Bah! that is nothing, " rejoined our military escort with a sneer of triumph. "To go from Tartlet in the south to Tangier in the north, the fastest caravan must travel /o?-/v (/ays. You see Morocco is the biggest country in the world !
Nor can we blame him for his opinion, for the land looks boundless. The grand, free lines of the Moorish landscape are unbroken ; no trees, no houses, no hedges, and no high- ways are there to spoil the composition of the /■"^^ picture drawn and painted by the master artist. Nature. The country, although fertile, is uncultivated. The horizon seems widci than in other lands. Apparently there is no end. no limit to the landscape, ^^'e know that beyond each range of hills there Avill be revealed a replica of this primeval picture. One scene like this will sue-
io6
INTO MOROCCO
"SPACE, IN MOROCCO, IS STILL A STERN REALITY"
ceed another with scarce an interruption until the minarets of Fez shall cut their square majestic outlines against the southern sky.
Who can describe the floral beauty of these boundless prairies ? — who except Pierre Loti ? It was his dainty vol- ume, " Au Maroc, " that inspired me with a desire to follow him into Morocco. When I was reading his beautiful de- scriptions of the floral mosaic that covers both the plains and hillsides of the land, I could not easily accept as true the seemingly exaggerated assertions of the author ; his glowing word-pictures of an " empire carpeted with flowers. " Yet he spoke truly, and as I rode across these broad stretches of pure white, where marguerites in all their modest loveliness lie thick upon the greensward, I knew that I had seen it all before — seen it upon his printed page, as real, as beautifully vivid as it is to me to-day. To visit Morocco after reading
!
INTO MOROCCO
107
Pierre Loti is like rcturninj^ to a land that is familiar, to a land already seen, to a land the charm of which has been revealed in the maj^ic paj^es of his jjoetic prose.
For miles and miles this bundle of narrow intersecting trails, the only Imperial Highway of the Sultan of Morocco, leads us on through a veritable garden — between intermin- able flower-beds. Our foreground is at tiiUL-s j)urc white, at others purple with a sea of iris tiowers, at others scarlet with the blood of anemones, at others yellow with the golden glory of the buttercups and daisies. The mountain slopes and hillsides meanwhile retiect the many colors of the spec- trum. It is as if some gorgeous rainbow, shattered in the Moorish heaven, had fallen upon the deserted hills and val- leys of this savage, silent land. It is as if the divine Artist had resolved to make this wilderness the palette from which to take the colors for all future landscapes. It is
" THbl BIGGEST COLNIRY IN llIK \\OisLD"
loS
INTO MOROCCO
as if the sunset of the day before was lingering" here to meet the sunset of the morrow. It is as if Ahnighty Allah had selected the Empire of Moghrcb for his sanctuary, and had spread out upon its sacred floor a prayer-rug of unutterable beauty, woven by the divine looms — a carpet of heavenly design to inspire man to fall upon his knees and pray.
This is our life during ten delightful, never-to-be-forgotten days. All day we journey southward, pausing at noon " mid- way 'twixt here and there ; " at night we arrive, as my friend expressed it, at " nowhere in particular, " and in the glow of the sunset we pitch our little camp. Then, when the even- ing fire is lighted, the encircling night grows blacker,
9^
"" swWfci
,'i4.iniii.«iip"^| || iiijlt^
^i^?«f^
AN EMPIRE CARPETED WITH FLOWERS
INTO M()R(XXO
109
•.■TERMINABLK LOWER-BEDS
the sur- rounding d a r k n e s : becomes a protecting \v a
and we feel almost secure. Our animals are hobbled in a row before the tent, each witli a heap of fresli green grass or clover. Thc}^ munch all ni-ht ; and when we wake, startled by the cry of a jackal, or by a shout from one of the
NOWHERE IN PARTICLLAK
I lO
INTO MOROCCO
\ H ;- ,H WAY "
men on guard, we are sure to hear that music of nine munching mouths. It is our lullaby, and we fall asleep again to dream of Fez, the mysterious city which we shall enter on the morrow.
HAJ BREAKS THE MOSLEM LAW
INTO MOROCCO
1 1 1
On the eleventh morning of our journey the semblance of a highway comes straggling from the south to meet us. The countless caravans, crawling toward the holy city, have cre- ated this illusion of a road, — a road that will lead us in a few short hours to the gates of a great city, the fascination of which, for him who has the slightest love of romance in his soul, is irresistible. Fez is no banal, moderni/ed, or tourist-
Mi il\vA^• I '
ridden city, nor is it a mere heap of ugliness and ruin of which the only charm is a remoteness from the living world. Fez is a city that has been in its time one of the proudest and most splendid cities of the Moslem world. Its fall has been so gradual that there has been no change, nothing but a slow decay, so gentle that it has not scarred old Fez. but beautified it, Fez, like Venice, requires but a touch of the imagination, aided by the long shadows of the early morning,
I 12
INTO MOROCCO
the in}'stery of twilight, or the silvery magic of the moonlight, to restore it to us as it stood in all its somber beauty eight hundred years ago.
Therefore do we most eagerly await the moment that will reveal to us this crumbling stronghold of a dying race, this beautiful but fragile shell of Moorish civilization, — a civiliza- tion that long ago ceased to progress, and, ceasing to pro- gress, has thereby ceased to live.
'«»^yrf.
1
aaAMA JAviuaiHT mu
FEZ
FEZ
i^rHfJHHf^hr', M^mmd
mi:tr()P()li.s uf the mours
TO modern minds the word "metropo- lis ' ' suggests a city, great in extent, in the heart of a thickly populated country ; a place of marvels and of wonderful con- trivances ; a place where commerce has worn mighty caiions between huge cliffs of masonry ; a place toward which all roads converge ; a place whence radiate interminable rails of steel, along which speed steaming monsters, annihilating space and bringing vast regions under the spell of urban supremacy ; or else the suggestion is of a mighty seaport, to which the great ships of the deep bring men from far-off lands and cargoes from the far ends of the earth. Metropolis, moreover, means a place where burn the bea- con-lights of intelligence and culture ; where the latest word
ii6
FEZ
THE METROPOLIS OF THE MOORS
of science is spoken ; where every day a superstition dies ; where seekers after truth come nearest to their goal. A metropolis is the essence of our New Century civilization, — • the creation of an irresistible modern impulse, an entity that challenges our admiration and inspires us with awe.
But there is in this world a great city, the metropolis of a nation, which is not like the cities that we know.
APPROACHING FEZ
FEZ
117
In the midst of a fertile, sniilinj^ wilderness, it is a stranger to all things that are new ; its commerce ebbs and flows through channels unknown to the world. At its gates are no railways and no carriage-roads, but it holds infrequent com- munication with a distant port by means of caravans of mules and camels, and of messengers who run on foot. Its culture is the culture of the ^^^ . .,„,^^ Fifteenth Century,
its science ,^^ ^V,». of still earlier
IN THE MIDST OF A SMILING WILDERNESS"
date ; and truth there is yet hid by clouds of superstition. This city is the essence of the Middle Ages ; it is the heart of a nation that was mummified eight hundred years ago by the religion of Mohammed. This city is called Fez ; the land of which it is the capital is Morocco.
The first glimpse of Fez is an event in the life of a traveler. Then, if ever, will be experienced one of those delicious little thrills that make their way down the spinal column of a man when he realizes that he has accomplished something of which
Ii8
FEZ
he has long been dreaming. And when we, who have long been dreaming of a visit to the Moor's metropolis, actually behold it, though it first appears as only a faint line of walls and towers, almost undiscernible through the rough sea of heated air-waves that surge between us and the city, now that Fez at last has risen from this endless plain over which we have been toiling southward for eleven days, we feel that we must draw rein, and for a few minutes indulge in the enjoyment of that creeping thrill. There are so few of them in life ; the traveler who can remember twenty of these deli- cious moments in as many 3-ears is fortunate above his kind ! Happy in the assurance that a new and thoroughly un- common experience is opening before us, we ride rapidly on. Leaving our baggage caravan far in the rear, and halting at a respectful distance from the walls, we snatch a hasty
" A lAINT LINE OF WALLS AND TOWERS"
m^'
FEZ
121
luncheon before entering the gates of Fez ; and this luncheon is the last incident of our delightful journey into Morocco. We have been eleven long days in the saddle. We recall the de- parture from Tangier, the nights in camp near Berber villages, the passing glimpse of the city of Alcazar-el-Kebir, and the visit to Morocco's greatest saint, the Shareef of Wazzan ; nor can we forget the great sun-tiooded land, bright with the colors of a million-million flowers, across which our little caravan has struggled at a snail-like pace, crawling scarce twenty miles between the rising and the setting of the sun.
THK Sl'N-FI.OODKn I-ANP
122
FEZ
WHO CAN FORGET THE SMILING FACE OK HA]?"
Still with US are the Faithful Five — the five men who formed our escort, the men to whom we looked for comfort, willing service, and pro- tection. There is Raid Lharbi, the military guard, under his broad-brimmed hat ; and as for the dragoman-in-chief, who can forget the smiling face of Haj Abd- er-Rahman ? A marvel of tact and cleverness was " Haj, " but though he has successfully piloted our fleet of mules and horses, with their cargoes of tents, furniture, provisions, cameras, and presents, across trackless expanses where the only law is the Law of Might, he may well assume an anxious expression as we approach the gates of Fez ; for there his task will be even more difficult. Instead of the lawless, but simple-minded, easily-won people of the plains, he will now have to deal with city men, men of strong anti-Christian prejudices, with the proud, ignorant, fanatical, and cunning population of this untaken stronghold of Mohammed's faith. We shall be met at every turn by a polite resistance, and although our letters, obtained in Tangier from the Moorish Minister of Foreign Affairs, assure us official protection, we shall be given to understand that we are not wel- come visitors, and that our sojourn must be made as short as possible. The surroundings are so smiling and peaceful that we can scarcely realize that yonder city is one of the most fanatical, one of the most rigidly
KAID LHARBI
FEZ
123
opposed to foreign intrusion of any in the world. Our first impression is that Fez lies on a level plain ; but we find this is not true, for it is spread out on the slopes of an irregular valley. Another view than our first will tell us more of the situation of the place. I must confess, however, that although my bump of locality is fairly well developed, I found the situa- tion of Fez most difficult clearly to understand, and it was
TlIK \\ LSI i:KNM<iSI
124
FEZ
only after repeated excursions to the surrounding eminences that I was able to map out mentally the various quarters of the town. That there are two great divisions, each almost independent of the other, we very soon discover.
First, there is the Imperial and official quarter, where the palaces and gardens of the Sultan and the buildings of the government are scattered over uncounted acres of high-
" FASS-EL-DJEDin "
walled areas. In native speech, this quarter is called Fass- el-Djedid ; that is, " Fez, the new, " for it is new when meas- ured by the age of Fass-Bali, or Old Fez, which soon reveals itself to us, lying in a hollow to the left of Fass-el-Djedid. This is the vicdiiui, or city proper, wherein are situated the most sacred mosques, the busiest bazaars, the dwellings of the poorer classes, and the modest Vice-Consulates of only two or three European nations. Between the animated Medina, — a mass of closely packed cubes of white, appearing
FEZ
125
when viewed from a distance like a saucer filled with sugar lumps, — and the spacious, stately governmental quarter, lies what is called the garden region.
This portion of the city in part resembles a well-cultivated farming region, open and free of access ; in part it is like a labyrinth of narrow high-walled alleys, dividing, with their double barriers of stone and plaster, one mysterious garden from another, isolating the secret retreat of one aristocratic Moor from the perfumed inclosure in which the harem of another is confined. A veritable abode of mystery and beauty is that distant portion of the garden region, a paradise to which the stranger is not welcomed. Nor will the stranger be persona grata in any part of Fez if the reports of other travelers are true. Surely, it will be a luxury to be despised by an entire population, and despised because we are that which we are most proud to be, champions of progress, lovers of civilization. And ready to meet the contempt of Allah's
■^l.-.^-
'?*W^
9Wif^
^- ..i
•>ffis
126
FEZ
THE GATK OF NEW FEZ
people, we approach this city. Near the ruined walls we see a multitude of whitish forms, now innnobile, now swayed as by emotion. It is an audience composed of men of Fez, gathered in a sort of natural theater to listen to the dramatic tale of a famous story-teller. In ages that are past the white-robed Greeks came forth from Athens and sat thus in the shadow of the old Acropolis to listen to the stories of dramatists and poets whose fame the whole world now knows. And because of its suggestion of those ancient gatherings, this assembly takes on a dignity and an importance in our eyes. Our coming causes a diversion ; spectators drop the thread of the speaker's dis- course, and turn toward us with a scowling curiosity. There are no greetings, not a smile, but we are not conscious of any open rudeness, save that now and then as we ride through the crowd, we notice that men clear their throats and spit ; this, however, we expected, for we knew that the presence of a
^
FEZ
129
Cliristian so defiles the atmos- phere that good Mohammedans must needs cleanse their mouths and nostrils after he has passed.
And now one of the great gates of New Fez looms before us. We enter. For a moment a dampness like that of a tunnel wraps its cool refreshing blackness about us, and then we emerge into a spacious age-worn court, which shows us that the adjective "new" applied to this strange, almost deserted quarter has only a comparative significance. There is in the entire city nothing that is really new. And yet this is not strictly true, for on our right we see a gateway freshly plastered, freshly painted in pale blue, with piles of cannon balls upon the top of its pilasters. It is the recently estab- lished arsenal of the Sultan. For the Sultan, though averse to progress and to civilization, has not hesitated to adopt that
I30
FEZ
which is most barbarous in our science, — the modern methods of destruction ; ami here he manufactures death-dealing in- struments like those invented by the Christians. We traverse the long, almost de- serted square, and cross
"ll-./- IN All. IIS Dll .\ril> A I 1 1 I KKAI.ITV"
the threshold of another gate. We find ourselves in a tortu- ous, vaulted corridor, divided into gloomy sections by huge horseshoe arches. These gates of Fez are surely not de- signed to facilitate urban circulation, rather are they designed, in case of need, to prevent or at least to impede the rapid gathering of crowds in the great areas around the imperial palace — to isolate the various precincts of the city in case of revolution.
As we pass onward, veiled women observe us with a silent wonder, a few men pause to clear their throats or sneer, a holy beggar crouching m an angle howls after us his incoherent
FEZ
131
curse. While my horse passes close to one of these ruined pillars, I involuntaril}' extend my hand and touch the crum- bling brick, as if to be assured that all this is not an illusion; that Fez, the city of our dream, does actually exist in all its dilapidated reality ; that at last the object of our journey into Morocco has been attained ; that our arrival in the Sultan s city is an accomplished fact. Then, followed by our caravan, we pass from under these ponderous arches and enter another court, smaller but not less strange than the first. Here, moving to and fro are a few white-robed beings ; but so silently do they stalk along, seemingly unconscious of our presence, that we feel as if we had entered a city of the dead, inhabited only by sheeted ghosts. Already we feel as if the shroud of Islam were being slowly wrapped about us. To the left rise the walls which hide from view the seraglios and palaces of Mulai Al-Hasan III. the Sultan ; to the right are other walls, conceal- ing we know not what mysterious buildings — vast abandoned structures which the stranger never sees. The Sultans have been reckless builders. We are told that the father of Mulai Al- Hasan began, long years ago, a palace which was designed to be the largest in the world. The walls of one room only were erected, and this room was never even cov- is the gates
132
FEZ
A STOLEN GLIMPSE OF THE IMPERIAL PALACE
ered by a roof. It forms to-day one of the most extensive pub- lic squares of Fez, measuring three hundred by nine hundred feet. How the old architects would have solved the problem of arching this huge empty space, it is impossible to guess. This is but one of the long series of abandoned squares
and public places across which our es- cort conducts us, each separated from another by c r u m - bling walls, pierced by artistic Moorish archways. Before reaching the city proper, we pass through a dozen or more of these arched portals, so ruinous, many of them, that they appear about to fall and crush us be- neath tons of cent-
THE EMPTY SPACIOfSNESS OK NEW FEZ
FEZ
133
ury-old masonry. 1 should but weary you were 1 to de- scribe our progress in detail ; suffice it to repeat that before we reach Old Fez we pass through many gates and traverse interminable, broad, deserted alleys leading between high, crumbling, battlemented walls, where we are stared at, muttered at, scowled at, by the shaven-pated youth of Fez,
v.hile more mature citi- zens exhibit their con- tempt by striding jjast without so much as a
A PIBl.IC St^lARK
look. It argues an immense amount of self-control to refrain from gazing on such an unusual spec- tacle as our caravan presented, simply because we were not true believers. Nevertheless, there were few among the better dressed men whom we met, who did not march severely by, nose in air, eyes front, denying themselves the satisfaction of an interested stare, because an initial glance had assured them that we were "unclean Christians." Though I confess that this reproach, owing to our ten days' travel overland, and to the scarcitv of water in Morocco, was
134
FEZ
only too well founded, yet we found it consoling to notice convinciui;" proofs that many of the true believers were also without the virtue that is next to godliness. Moreover, we intended to reform as soon as we could find a home, while no such admirable intentions can be credited to those who reviled us.
But as for the ladies we encountered — bless their feminine souls! — with them, womanly curiosity proved stronger than religious prejudice. They frankly halted, turned their pretty faces toward us and gazed up smilingly at the arriving travelers. We must admit, however, that they had the advantage of us ; we were compelled to take for granted both the prettiness and smiles, and it was pleasanter to do so ; moreover, there was nothing else to do. Still, the features of her who paused on the left, as vaguely molded by the masking haik, were not of
"staked at, MfTTERED AT, SCOWLED AT"
FEZ
135
Grecian purit\'. Slie would have charmed us more ha she not drawn her veil so ti^ht. On the right an older woman was more discreet ; like the wise Katisha she believed that it is not alone in the face that beauty is to be sought, so she sparingly d i s - pla\'ed her charms, reveal- ing only a left
heel whirh nen- "womanly cvriositv sTKoNciiK than ki;ligiols prkjidice"
pie may have come many miles to see. The fair one in the middle bares her face in most immodest fashion : through an opening at least three quarters of an inch in width two pretty eyes of black are flaming ; and, indeed, it may be set down as an almost invariable rule that the wider the opening 'twixt veil and haik, the prettier the eyes that flash between.
With maledictions on the prevailing style of dress for Moorish beauties, we ride on, passing finally from the empty spaciousness of New Fez into the crowded compactness of the old Medina. Here our pace, always slow, must be made even slower ; our caravan winds at a careful walk into a labyrinth of narrow ways, so dark, so crowded, so redolent of Oriental life, so saturated with the atmosphere of Islam and the East, that we are thrilled with pleasure at the thought that we are for a space to become dwellers in this strange metropolis and to live its life — a life so utterly unrelated to that of the cities whence we come.
136
FEZ
" THK CROWDED COMPACTNESS OF THE OLD MEDINA ''
First we must secure an abiding-place, for there are no hotels in Fez — at least none in which foreigners could live and remain in possession of their self-respect and sanity. The only places of public entertainment are the Fondaks, where men and mules are lodged and fed. A glance through the door of the Fondak, where our own faithful animals were later in the day entered as boarders for an indefinite period, proved how utterly preposterous it would be for us to depend upon the hotel resources of the capital. Although the packs have been removed, the pack-saddles, each a burden in itself, have not been taken off nor will they be until to-morrow for fear the animals uncovered while heated from exertion might catch cold, fall sick, and die. In fact, the mules have not been free from these cruel weights at any time during the journey of eleven days. Why the idea of suicide does not appeal to the Morocco mule is but another of the unaccount- able problems of the land.
Convinced that hotel-life in Fez has no attraction for us, we follow Haj toward the palace of the Governor, where,
I'llZ
i37
trust our letters, long, beautifully written documents in Arabic, to the attendant at the door. He disap- pears ; we wait ; he remains out of sight ; we con- tinue to wait.
For three long, mortal hours this
•I NAKKOW WAVS
thanks {u our official letters, we expect to lind that amj)le j)ro- visions for our com- fort have been made. We halt at last before an uin)romising door, in a deep and narrow street. The palace of the Basha is not extremely imposing in its exterior, but we know that in Morocco bare outer walls often hide undreamed - of splendor, and that dirty, dingy streets may surround pavil- ions and gardens of unsuspected beauty. Therefore it is with confidence that we in-
138
FEZ
endures. Evidently the Basha is deliberating deepl}' upon the proper disposition of his unwelcome visitors. Now and then an official comes out to look us over, but nothing is done. Soldiers and servants are sent away on errands, and seem never to return. We sit, meanwhile, mute protests at the door. Knowing our helplessness, we curb our anger and impatience, and endeavor to conceal our weariness from the scornful citizens who pass with haughty sneers, happy to see two Christians awaiting the Basha 's pleasure.
At last a servant comes with a reply. On receiving it, Haj flies into a passion, and orders the caravan to follow him, and away we tile through the crowded streets, Haj gesticu- lating wildly and shouting loud enough for all to hear that the Basha has attempted to extort money from the foreign visitors, who are great lords, whereas he is bound by instruc- tions from the Minister at Tangier to lodge them at the expense of the city. And this is true ; it is the policy
of the government to provide ..^
gratis a house for foreign visi- i«^i
AT THE BASHA S DOOR
i'i:z
141
tors to Fez. This policy is prompted not by a generous spirit of hospitality, but by a desire to control the move- ments of the stranf^ers. It is feared that if the foreigner is permitted to pay rental for his house, he may in some way establish a vague right to occupy it longer than is con- sistent with the desires of the government, This might prove awkward and lead to complications. It is much simpler to make the foreigner a guest, who cannot refuse to move on when politely notified that his abode is needed for another visitor.
In our case, however, the Basha has demanded payment for the house, and Haj, knowing well how to deal with this emergency, is leading us with ostentatious indignation toward the city gates, breathing as he rides loud threats that he will report our treatment to our friend, the Moorish Minister of Foreign Affairs, and declaring that we will, meantime, pitch our camp outside the walls, and hold the Governor respons- ible for an}' injury suffered at the hands of prowling robbers.
His shrewd tactics prove ef- fectual ; for as we are passing
142
FEZ
thro ugh one of the pretty alleys of the Garden Region, we are overtaken by servants of the Governor. Re- pentant, he has sent them with the keys of a villa that he has as- signed to us. We fol- low the Governor's retainers toward the heart of the aristo- cratic quarter, through a perplexing labyrinth of sun-tiooded alleys, where the redundant vegetation of the silent, surrounding gar- dens overflows the sky- line, or bursts through cracks in the old masonry. We know not whither we are being led ; we scarcely dare hope that we shall be per- mitted to abide in this delightful residential region, and we fear that some abandoned house will be made to serve us as a semi-prison. And soon it seems that our worst fears are to be realized, for although the caravan is halted in the garden region, it is in the dingiest and narrowest of its streets, before the lowest and the darkest of its doors.
When Pierre Loti came to Fez and saw for the first time the entrance to his house, he immediately exclaimed : "But this is not a human habitation! One might be par- doned for thinking it the entrance to a rabbit hutch ; and even then they must be very poor rabbits to live in such a place."
THE SCNNY ALLEYS OF THE GARDEN REGION
FEZ
143
The iloor of our promised abode looks like the outlet of a sewer or the entrance to a pit^-sty. And Haj. w ho has buoyed up our hopes with descriptions of the palace we were soon to occupy in Fez, receives reproachful glances. We fear his " palaces " no more deserve their name than did his "forests " and his "lakes " and " riv- ers, " for to him a clump of half a dozen trees was a
"IN THE NARROWKST AM) niNGIEST STREET"
'J'orcl jmii^iiifujuc ! " a muddy pool " u)i lac su- pcrln\^^ and a slimy streamlet, " II }i c riviere clairc ct bel- le. " And now -'^.^i his "/>((/ (I i s M sA/e?n/i(/c" * bids fair to be — a dirty prison. I^ut the ar- rival of our p a c k - m u 1 e s leaves us no
THE LO\\l;si, MARKIOST fx.nK
144
FEZ
time for reproaches or complaints. The caravan completely blocks the circulation of the neighborhood. The pack-mules, too broadly loaded, get stuck fast in the narrow street, and we are compelled to back them out and discharge the cargoes at a neighboring street-intersection. Our folding beds and chairs, our gaily-colored rugs and cushions, our kitchen out- fit, and our photographic kit are heaped up in the public
IIKIWKKN Sll.KNr GAKDliNS
thoroughfare, pending the disappearance of the animals. But happily, owing to the blockade, there are no passers-by ; else the major portion of our goods might also disappear. A sound of rushing water fills the air, for one of the rapid canals that irrigate the gardens and turn the flour- mills of Fez, here flows beneath the street. It makes a music very grateful to the ears of those who are new come from the torrid prairies of the provinces. Truly, it will be pleasant to rest for a few davs and listen to that music, no matter how
i-i:z
145
distasteful our abode ina\- i>rove to be. Let us. then, with resignation crawl throu^^di our (hn;.(y door and make ourselves at home.
Accordingly, we stoopingly grope through a low dark passage, then — stand erect and gasp with pleasure! Aladdin, when for the first time he rubbed the magic lamp, could not have been more thoroughly di-lighted or surprised. Before
i«75^
i
ij
" DISCHARGING CARGO "
us is a dainty villa, snowy white ; around it a delicious garden, more than an acre in extent. The fact that everything is purely Moorish, that no hint of European occupation can be seen, and the conviction that our home differs in no important detail from the dwellings of our aristocratic neighbors, gives added charm to our abode, added delight to the thought of sojourn here in this exotic atmosphere. It is resolved that we shall occupy the upper story, that our men shall find lodgings in the lower rooms, while for the noonday nap, the 10
I40
FEZ
PACK-MULES STUCK FAST BETWKEN THE WALLS
promenade, or a quiet hour with a book, our pretty garden offers us its shady depths. It is redolent with the perfume of or- ange-blossoms and jasmine. Beneath the leafy branches of the lemon and pomegranate, fig- a n d olive - trees, there is even at noon a coolness as of evening. The hum of in- sects, the subdued roar of tumbling waters in the ad- jacent garden, and the trickling mur- mur of tiny canals fill the air with a restful symphony.
FRONT DOOR
Photograph by Nelson Ludington Barnes
OLR VILLA
ri:z
149
>IR MOOKISll (.AKDKN
W'f have forgotten the rudeness of our Welcome ; we have shut out the grim, hostile city ; we are at last at h<niie in Fez. We are as safe as if shut up in jail. In fact, like all for- eign \isitors, we, too, must record among our sensations that of being prisoners w h i 1 e within the walls of Fez ; but we are very willing prisoners, and when the hour of dinner is
Photograph l>y Nelson Luilin^ton Barnes
AT HOME IN I-FZ
i;o
FEZ
announced, we cheerfully climb the tiny spiral stairway to our rooniv cell, and with this hrst meal be^in the routine of our daily home life in the Sultan's city.
We have simply pitched camp in the great upper chamber of the house, spread out the rugs, set up the beds, the chairs, and tables, and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. The windows are merely huge openings in the wall, unglazed, with metal bars and heavy wooden shutters. The f^oor is neatlv tiled, the walls are whitewashed, and the ceiling is of
PlKjlMuraph by N'.l,'.ii Lulinyton H.irn
\VI1.L1N<. FRISONEKS
FEZ
151
wood. Our five attendants have taken possession of the lower floor. There also Haj has installed h i s little cuisine, and is i n d u s - triously
encour- "^
aging
a tiny "'^J'^ clisine
charcoal fire with a fan. Sitting near, intently observing his culinary operations, is a young Jewish woman, who brought a recommendation from the British Vice-Consul, and was engaged to act as maid-of-ali-work, to help five helpless men
to bring order and com- fort out of the chaos that reigns here on the day of our arri\al. That she does not lack for occupa- tion is proved by the as- pect presented by our courtyard dur- ing the painful period of in- stallation in our exquis- ite Moorish home. Pack- baskets, bed-
THE JEWISH MAin-OF-AI.I.-WORK
1^2
FEZ
ding, blankets, furniture, and dishes had been dumped there in confusion ; but through the efforts of our Hebrew house- keeper, all things are quickly put to rights, the court resumes its wonted air of Oriental languor, the little fountain sings on its uninterrupted song, and the atmosphere of romance once more envelopes house and court and garden. To fill our cup of happiness, a messenger arrived, bringing a bulky
CHAOS IN THK COURTYARD
packet of letters from America ; for a courier of the British consul, who left Tangier one week after our departure, has arrived in Fez the day of our arrival, having run on foot the entire way, one hundred and seventy miles in four days' time ; while we, encumbered with a baggage caravan, have been eleven days upon the way.
We remain a day and night in our new abode before ven- turing out into the streets. We shall now cautiously com- mence a series of expeditions — one cannot call them strolls or promenades — across and round about the town. The objec-
FEZ
'53
tive-point of our first ex- pedition is the office of our banker. We de- scend from the high- lying Garden Region, and enter the ruinous streets of the Mc(Hna. We are accompanied by Haj, for without a guide we should soon go astray. We are followed by K a i d Lharbi, our military es- cort, it being most imprudent for the foreigner to walk abroad unaccompanied by a guard. To photograph in the streets of Fez is difficult
to the verge of impossibility. First, there is the Mohamme- dan prejudice against picture-making, the reproduction of the likeness of living things being prohibited by the Koran, which says : " Every painter is in hell-fire, and Allah will appoint a person at the day of resurrection for ever}' picture he shall have drawn, to punish him ; and they will punish him in hell. Then, if you must have pictures, make them of trees and things without souls." Had the photographer existed in Mohammed's day, he would undoubtedly have had a special verse in Scripture devoted to his case ; as it is, the faith- ful call the camera a "painting-machine,"' and class its
STREETS l.IKK VAULTED TINNEI.S
154
FEZ
manipulator with the impious artists whose instruments of crime are brushes. Even though this difficulty ma}- be overcome by cunning, the very streets and structures conspire w i t h the people to foil the eager c a m e r i s t . Many of these streets are vaulted tunnels, illuminated only here and there by bands of light ; others are roofed by vine-cov- e r e d trellises, that give them tlie appear- ance of interminable arbors, through which faint squares of light flitter and fall upon the unpaved ground ; still others are so narrow and are cut between such tall dark walls, that nev- er by any chance do rays of sun- shine illuminate their depths. Street life in Fez is vividly sugges- tive of subterranean existence. There is a dark-cellar-like cool-
" AMONG RESUSCITATED ME.N IN THEIR SHROUDS "
TREl.LISED THOROUGHFARES
FEZ
D3
ness, which, combined with the j^hostl}' stride and costume of the inhabitants, ^ives us the impression oi beinj< in the cata- combs amonf^" resuscitated men in their shrouds. Ghostly in- deed is the dress of the rich old men in Fez, — a dress that gives its wearers the dignity of Roman senators. What a su- perb figure for the ghost of Hamlet's father one well-remem- bered old gentleman would make ! He is, however, Haj s uncle, and greets our guide, his nephew, very cordially. Haj, rascal that he is, knowing that we care more for snap-shots than for introductions, always arranges when he meets a friend or relative to detain him in conversation, in the best illumi- nated portion of the street, thus giving us invaluable oppor- tunities for secret portraiture. Then, after he has heard the " click ! " that comes from what appears to be an innocent brown paper parcel under my right arm, Haj, with many com- plimentary phras- es, presents us to our visitor, intro- ducing us as men of great distinction from America.
Presentl}' we emerge from the dim bazaars, and find ourselves in a small, deep, pub- lic stjuare. O n one side is a semi- ruinous water
AN FXCHANGE
i!;6
FEZ
fountain, roofed with tiles
and decorated with mosaics.
Before us is a stately portal,
the entrance to a commer- cial exchange, a headquart- ers for the better class of
merchants. It dates from
the time when Fez was the
commercial center of a rich
and very prosperous empire,
when the merchandise of the
world found here a profitable
market. The building now
is sadly out of repair, like
almost every other building "aj ^«=^hts a gentleman ok fez
in the city. To n^ake repairs in Fez is sacrilegious. If a
structure crumbles and decays, the owner with resigna- tion folds his hands and murmurs, ' ' It is the will of Allah ; it is written, " and forthwith, grateful for this mark of di- vine favor, hies him to the mosque and prays.
The Mohamme- dan strictly fulfils his religious observ- ances. During the hour of prayer the KEPA.Rs ARE SELDOM MADE IN KE. quartcr is descrted ;
m WL.^-^^-'n'ti A.>T-A -■' /^ r f . A j*'^
'' ^-^^- ^*
TKAUERS "O.N Mil-: ClKK-
FEZ
159
an hour later business is rtisuined, and the wheels of metro- politan coninierce, released for a short space from the religious brake, again revolve with many a squeak and crunch, clogged as they are by superstition and neglect. Yet for the artist or lover of the picturesque, it would be difficult to find a more attractive crowd of business men. And these Moorish arch- ways, fountains, tiled roofs, and age-eaten arabesques are still most beautiful, even in dilapidation more beautiful,
THE OFFICE OF THE AMERICAN CONSULAR AGENT
perhaps, than when in all their freshness they were the pride and admiration of generations of Fassis, long since gathered into Paradise. We are informed that our banker, who is also the consular agent for the United States, has offices within a certain medieval business block ; and as we are in need of funds, and also desirous of meeting our representa- tive, we push through the trading throng and enter the patio, a spacious inner court four stories deep. Four tiers of galleries rise about us, all richly finished in old woodwork,
i6o
FEZ
elaborately carved, but sharing in the slow decay of the entire building". Our consular agent, whose office door stands open on the left, is ( as we have been told) a native Jew, by name, Benlezrah ; by occupation, a merchant, broker, and money lender; and by nationality, thanks to the "protection" system prevalent in Morocco, an American citizen. Benlez- rah admits that his consular duties are not engrossing, nor are they profitable ; for he receives no pay except in the form of infrequent fees ; but he holds to his office most tenaciously because the United States has power to naturalize all its servants in Morocco, and to grant them what are called " protection papers. " Were he not thus protected by some foreign power, the Sultan's assessor would, he assures us, soon strip him of his comfortable fortune gained in com- merce. A few days later we visited Mr. Benlezrah at his home in the Jewish quarter, where we find him surrounded by his family. A high sepulchral bed, something between an Oriental shrine and the proscenium of a Punch and Judy theater, is the dominating feature of his drawing-room. During our call our host tells us more about the protection
i"i:z
i6i
system. It aj)- fffBP pears that all rich men in Morocco are subject to the most barefaced robbery by the Sultan and his ministers. When in need of funds, the government notifies its chosen victim that a large contribution for the coffers of the sacred Sultan will assure the giver of the imperial favor, and that a refusal to obey the hint will be followed by im- prisonment or confiscation, or both. lUit cannot be imprisoned or
men jjrotected by foreign powers
punished until tried for their
offenses before
the consular
court in Tangier,
and are there-
fore practically
insured against
the cupidity of
cc^rrupt imperial officials.
Thus every Moor or
Jew, possessed of wealth,
n
i62 FEZ
t t
-^
¥
TWO OK THE SULTAN S CABINET
desires the protection of a foreign nation. Protec- tion being such a boon, abuses have naturally at- tached themselves to the granting of it.
The Moorish govern- ment has complained that consuls of the European nations, yes, even of the United States, have been L/ guilty of selling for cash
Wf --, the protection of their re-
*(, -^ spective flags to w^ealthy
^^ -^^ ^* ^^^ Moors and Jews. To the
Jew, protection is indeed a special blessing, since it gives him the right to ride on horseback or muleback through these streets, where other Jews must walk. It permits him to pass the doorways of the mosques without stopping to remove his shoes, while other Jews must bare their feet each time they near the sacred gates.
It must be remembered that the current calendar in Fez is not that of A. D. 1907 ; but it is for the year 1325,* after the Hegira of Mohammed, and the Moors are about six cen- turies behind the times !
These Mohammedans of Fez not only do not permit the Jew to pass the mosque with shoes upon his feet, but they do not permit any infidel to enter their sacred places ; they do not permit Jew or Christian to pause to look in at the doors, and there is one mosque, the Shrine of Mulai Idrees, the founder of Fez, so holy that no unbeliever is permitted even to approach it. Across the streets leading thither barriers are placed ; the Moors stoop and pass under them ; the Christian
* The Mohammedan lunar year being several days shorter than our solar year, makes the .Moslem New Year's Day a movable feast, which in the course of centuries works its way through all the seasons. The year 1325, after the Hejira of Mohammed, be«an on February 14th, Anno Domini, IQ07.
FKZ
16:
and the Jew, on pain oi death, must go no farther. Then across other streets bars are placed to mark the point beyond \\hich men are not allowed to pass at cer- tain hours.
One portion of the cool cellar-like bazaar is sacred to the women, who, tem- porarily embarrassed, bring hither objects that they wish to sell. Apparently they are not eager to attract pur- chasers, for they hide what- ever they may have beneath their haiks ; but now and then a man approaches, and an embroidered vest, a piece of silk, a jewel or a ring is reluctantly brought forth and passed across the barrier in exchange for silver coins ; then one white, shrouded figure rises and fades away amid the ghostly throng. To us, new- comers to this land of mystery, it is as disconcerting to face a crowd of these women, as for the soldier to stand unmoved before masked batteries. We are conscious that two score of bright, black eyes are leveled at us, but we cannot read the message they project — the faces that would make the message legible are veiled. Are the Jips curled in scorn of the infidel .'' Are smiles of ridicule excited by his strange foreign dress, so pitifully convenient and unpicturesque, so tight, so graceless, when compared to the splendid sweep of the Moorish costume .'' Or, in some faces, is there written a
NEARING A I'ORTAl. (iF THK KAklEEIN
1 66
FEZ
deep, bitter yearning for knowledge of the outside living world, — the world of to-day, of which we stray moderns come here as reminders ? But as we wander ever through the bazaars, meeting everywhere the same impassive, un- curious expressions on the uncovered faces of the men, we are inclined to believe that to the Moor, Morocco is the world, — that for him, outside its borders, geographically or intellectually, there is nothing worthy his consideration. A few progressive Moors, so we were told, evince a shadowy interest in the universe at large by subscribing for a daily paper. This paper is not printed in Fez, where journalism is unknown, it comes from far-off Cairo on the Nile, and reaches its eager Moorish readers after a voyage of seven days by sea and eight by land.
Remembering these things, it is difficult to believe that Fez is, in the eyes of the Mohammedans, an important seat of learning, but so it is ; for does not the famous university and mosque, known as the Karueei'n stand in the very heart of Fez.^ The Karueein, a sort of inner " holy city " is, next
to the mosque of M u 1 a i Idrees, the most sacred inclos- ure in Fez : As we approach it, we are warned by Haj that Christians are not permitted even to pause and glance into its courts when passing any of its many portals. The imperfect pictures that will reveal to you vague glimpses
A COLKTVAKU OF THE INVIOI.ABLK KARUKEIN
FEZ
167
of its dark corridors and sunlit patios are the result of oft-re- peated efforts, risks, and subterfuges. The entrances are jealously guarded by the faithful ; the Jew or Christian who lingers on the thresh- old is rudely jostled by the passers-by, and if he does not take the hint, a sud- den surging of the crowd sweeps h i m away. Three morn- ings were devoled to vain attempts to bring the camera to bear upon those gates. But finally a fourth attempt, aided by strategy, met with success. Opposite every gate are groups of beggars, crouching in the narrow street. Strolling with ostentatious carelessness, the camera, wrapped like a paper parcel, under my arm, I pause before the beggars, my back turned to the sacred entrances, and fumble in my pocket for stray coppers. No one sees any reason for interfering with the charitable stranger ; but, mingled with the chink of the coins dropped into the out- stretched palms, there might have been heard the clicks of a photographic shutter, fired almost at random, and these pictures here shown are the rewards of my charity, so hypo- criticallv bestowed. I had had faith in mv abilitv finallv to
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accomplish my sinful task ; I had been buoyed up b}' the hope of success, but while I had not charity, my efforts did not proiit me.
The Karuee'in is the greatest educational institution of western Barbary. Nor must we smile to hear it called by so proud a name. Its past entitles it to the respect of the world. It ranked with the great colleges of Moorish Spain — with Cordova itself — as a seat of learning, and hither came not only Moslems, from all corners of Islam, but also noble gentlemen from England, France, and Spain, to complete their educations. Yes, as we glance into another patio,
where a green tiled kiosk rer.il
H
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WHKRK ME.N ARE TAt;<,IIT IIV " IN I ELLECTIAL MIMMIES"
urt of the Lions of the Alhambra, we must not forget that here philosophy once flourished, here as- tronomy, mathemat- ics, and medicine once were more fully developed than at any other place in the contemporary world. In the inac- cessible library of the Karueein, the lost books of Euclid are said to be molder- ing, also many clas- sics, fragments for which scholars have been seeking. But these things will not be brought to light until the death-knell
FEZ
169
of Morocco's independence shall have sounded. The Karfleein to-day stands here in the heart of Fez, as the center of resist- ance to all progress, as the embodiment of slumber ; yet here are gathered even in our day more than a thousand students, four hundred of them supported by an endowment fund dating from the twelfth century. That is, their food is
THE WEST
Mounrains \ mountains
^£22^^23 THE EAST
MAP OF THE WORLD A5 U5E0 BY TMf UMIVfR-ilT Y OF fCZ A.O 189?.
provided for them gratis, their lodging costs them nothing, for they sleep under the arcades of the Mosque or in its spacious courts. They are taught by wise men — " Taleebs ' ' — men who are intellectual mummies. They learn to repeat the Koran word for word ; they learn to hate the unbeliever, to scorn his science and inventions, to turn their backs upon all things that are new ; they are encouraged to cling to the old dream of Islam, and to worship the God of their fathers in this holy mosque. They are taught the forms and simple ceremonials of the Moslem faith ; to wash the feet at the fountain before entering the sanctuary ; to leave their yellow, heel-less slippers in the court ; to kneel, or rise, or prostrate themselves at proper intervals ; to pray five times each day ; to turn their faces while they pray toward the sacred city
\yo
FEZ
Mecca in the East ; to drink no wine, to eat no pork, to keep with cruel rig^or the lonj:^ fast of the Ramadan, when for forty davs they may not touch food, drink, or tobacco between the rising of the sun and the going down of the same. As for their secular teaching, it is refreshingly original. A map of the world, the use of which is sanctioned by the faculty, throws much interesting light upon the Moorish geographic point of view. An examination of the
lU-.Si 11. A I I( )N
map shows that Tangier, although a Moorish port, is placed on the north side of the Mediterranean, while Spain, apparently, is next door to Morocco, on the coast of Africa. The results of Stanley's explorations are outlined with remarkable angu- larity and distinctness around the sources of the Nile and the Mountains of the Moon. England, though not named, is represented by one of the islands just north of India and Thibet ; moreover, the latest Moorish expedition to the north pole has evidently reported that Gog and Magog abide amid the frozen seas, for they figure on the map.
FEZ
171
"first comes a SQl-AD OK SOLDIERS"
Every spring the students of the Karfleem, who are called "Tholbas, " go forth from Fez, and pitch a great camp in the plain. They elect one of their number "Sultan of the Tholbas," and to him all must pay reverence. Even the veritable Sultan himself must ride out in state and call upon Student Sultan in the
THK THOI.BA CAMP
172
FEZ
MODERN MOORISH SOLDIERY
Tholbas' camp, treating him as an Imperial brother. The expenses of this scholastic picnic are paid by contribu- tions exacted by the Tholbas from the citizens of Fez. Returning from our visit to this camp, we make our way once more into the official quarter of New Fez, through which we passed so hurriedly the day of our arrival. The same grim walls are there, the frowning towers, and the air of desolation. To our great regret we have learned that the Imperial Master, Mulai El-Hasan, Sultan of Morocco, will not return to Fez until long after our departure. He is at present on the march across the southern deserts, returning from a journey of eigh- teen months' duration to the rebellious province of Tartlet, on the border of the Great Sahara. Small wonder that the New Fez appears deserted ; for when his Imperial Majesty goes upon a journey, he is followed by no less than a quarter
VEZ
W5
of the population of l'"ez, 30,000 people, — officials, soldiers, servants, and wives and slaves. But we are, nevertheless, to see a remnant of his retinue, for suddenly a crowd ajjpears as if by magic, and the square takes on an air of life and animation.
First comes a squad of soldiers, marching to the beating of a drum. They wear the hideous modern uniform of the new Moorish army — an army that has been created within the past few years by a foreign officer on the Imperial staff, a Scotchman, Kaid Maclean, who has transformed the ragged unkempt hordes of his Imperial Master into an arm\- with some pretensions to discipline and ecpiipment, although to us it
THE GATHERING AT THF-: GATK OK JISTICK
174
FEZ
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WITH THE BRITISH VICE-CONSUL
appears almost grotesque. The uniform chosen gives the private soldier the aspect of a simian pet of an organ-grinder, a little overgrown. Judging by their appearance we are pre- pared to see these war- riors doff their caps and pass them around for coppers ; but this is less the fault of the soldiers than of the military- tailor ; the same men robed in long flowing garments would, in all probability, appear as dignified as the civili- ans. We had the curi- osity to examine their weapons, and we were rewarded by discover-
CAPTIRING A KORT WITH CAMERAS
Photograph by Nelson Ludington Barnes
FEZ
'75
ing several muzzle-loading ritles, bearing the inscription, "Springfield, Massachusetts, 1865."
The first awkward scjuad is followed by another and another, until the great square, bisected by a long procession of those red-coated fighters, appears like a ravine through which there flows a river of blood. Meantime, from the por- tal of the palace there emerges with solemnity and slowness a stately company of white-robed Moors, some mounted upon superbly harnessed mules, followed by spotlessly arrayed dig- nitaries and courtiers on foot ; and in the midst of these rides the Viceroy of Fez. We dared not raise our cameras as he passed, for the crowds regarded us with hostility, and the picture we secured shows only his retreating form, towering
above the heads of his attendants.
THERE AKK GARDENS AND ORCHARDS
176
FEZ
The procession enters the huge " Gate of Justice. " On the left we discern a hne of crouching figures, those who have come to make or answer charges before the autocratic tribunal. There is no appeal from the instantaneous decisions given by the old Vizier of Justice. Happy the citizen who, thanks to the protection afforded him by a foreign consul, is exempt from being dragged to this bar of so-called justice !
" TRAILS THAT ARE ALMOST ROADS
FEZ
177
The only Anglo- Saxon representative in Fe;? is His Bri- tannic M a j e s t y ' s Vice- Consul, Mr. Maclver MacLeod. For downright per- tinacity commend me to this man, who, in the face of an en- tire nation's opposi- tion, planted himself in Fez, established a vice-consulate, and stuck to his post un- til the Moors gave up the fight and resolved to tolerate his per- manent presence in their holy city. W'itii Mr. Mac Leod we enjoy frequent ex- cursions roundabout the city, to the nearer mountain crests, and to the abandoned forts upon the hill-tops, whence splendid views of Fez are to be had. One day, finding no practicable doorway to one of those deserted strongholds, we entered boldly through the embrasure where years ago the noses of old cannon had breathed threatenings above the once-rebellious city. Affrighted at our daring, my youthful camera-bearer dropped the case and fled.
There are orchards and gardens in the environs of Fez, and there are trails that are almost roads, radiating in all directions. We are invariably accompanied by an escort when we ride forth from Fez ; the country roundabout is not safe. The British \'ice-Consul always brings his followers, and insists that we shall order out Kaid Lharbi. our pictur-
12
THK VICK-CO.NSILAR MLLA
1 78
FEZ
BRITISH SOCIKTY IN FEZ
esque old soldier-chaperon, every time we venture beyond the crumbling walls.
The Vice-Consulate is in the old Medina, in the heart of Fez ; but Mr. MacLeod lives in the garden region. A pretty Moorish villa has been transformed into an English home, presided over by the Vice-Consul's mother, who has exiled herself from England to spend her days with her courageous son in Fez.
"But I am not the only Christian woman in Fez," Mrs. MacLeod assures us, in reply to our remark that she must sorely miss the companionship of people of her own race and religion. " If you will dine with us on Sunday, you will meet the five Tabeebas. " We accepted the invitation, and met the "five Tabeebas," each one a study for a statue of Lot's wife after she had so unwisely looked over her left shoulder. Pillars of salt they look, and in truth they are the salt of this cruel Moorish land. They are Christian women, angels of mercy, missionaries, — but not ordinary missionaries, — theirs is a medical mission, — a mission through which no energy is wasted, against w^hich no criticism can be urged.
i-i:z
179
Amon^' them are three Enf^lish women, one Irishwoman, and one Scotch hissie. Thi'ir work is, of necessity, chiclly with the bodies rather than with the souls of those they seek to aid ; for they reah/e, as every sane-minded Christian must, that to Christianize Moorish Mohaminechins is an impossibihty unless the missionary first wins the confidence and hne of the people through many palpable and self-evident deeds of benevolence.
The dress of these women is but another expression of their innate tact. If they insisted upon going abroad in the streets with uncovered faces, they would immediately lose the respect and confidence of the people who have learned to love them for their numberless good works. They occupy a large house in the densely populated quarter, a home which is by turns a school or a hospital. Here they teach Moorish girls manv useful things ; here every day they receive and treat,
THE TABEEBAS
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free of charge, as many patients as present themselves. One afternoon while we were taking tea with the Tabeebas, they were repeatedly called from the room to dress a wound, apply an ointment, or give advice to some poor sufferer. Of course we were not permitted to see the Moorish girls who come to the Tabeebas ' school. To secure a photograph of them my camera was lent to one of the Tabeebas, who secretly made an exposure from behind a door that stood ajar. Did the parents of these young girls know of the making of the pic- ture, there would be no pupils here upon the morrow. The faces in the group are faces on which no man may look, unless he be the father, brother, or husband.
Let us steal away through the mysterious, fascinating streets and byways that lead us, with a hundred puzzling turns, back to our peaceful villa.
It is needless to say that our neighbors have not called upon us, nor indicated by any sign that they are conscious of
i'i:z
i8i
our presence in this iiristocratic jirecinct. Walls from fifteen to twenty feet in hei^Mit surroinid our j^arden, cutting us off completely from the public streets and from the garden of our next-door neighbors. Our curiosity concerning that adjoin- ing garden and the family that dwelt therein increased from day to day. Apparently an interminable picnic is in progress there ; for three days past we have been hearing the shouts of children at play and the strange shrill cry peculiar to Moorish women, a piercing tremolo, to which they give utterance in token of joyfulness. It might be called the " college yell " of these Oriental wives — pupils in the school of submission.
Finally we can resist no longer ; we must learn what is passing there on the other side of that high wall. P>ut how.'
OLR VILLA l-ROM THK STRl.ET
I82
FEZ
A STOLEN PKEP OVER GARDEN WALL
We dare not show our heads for fear some jealous Moor may smash them. We resolve to make a cat's-paw of the faithful camera to snatch curiosit}'- satisfying chestnuts out of the fire of Moslem exclusiveness. We climb a ladder, lift the camera, upside-down, above the wall, take aim by looking up into the inverted finder, fire, and withdraw precipitately. The result was worth the risk and effort. The plate revealed a scene from private family life in Fez, — the picture of a rich Moor's wives and children attended by black slaves, taking their ease in the absolute seclusion of their garden, brewing and drinking Moorish tea, as they sit on a tiled platform that surrounds a bathing tank. The foreshortening of the figures may be at first a trifle puzzling ; remember we are looking, or, rather, the camera is looking down upon the group from over a garden-wall that is not less than twenty feet in height. Fortunately, the attention of the family had been attracted by something occurring just out of our range of vision, though
DISCOVERED !
FEZ
185
we knew nothinj^ of this at the time. The nej^ative was not developed till we reached America, so the camera recorded a scene which we ourselves have never looked upon. Encour- aged by the silence following our first attempt, we chose another section of the wall and repeated our manceuver. Un- fortunately a preliminary click was heard by our sitters, whose startled expressions, faithfully registered, prove that they have seen the guilty lens and shutter winking at them from the summit of the wall. Some have already hid their faces, others are apparently crying out in protest ; even the dog, like a good Mohammedan, turns his back to the "painting ma- chine." The unique picture tells us what manner of women is concealed by the shroudlike garments, which are worn in the streets and which make women, be they young, old, rich, poor, beautiful, or ugly, appear as like, one to another, as are bales of woolen cloth. Street life in Fez is for women a per- petual masquerade, a lifelong domino party. But in these high-walled gardens all the participants unmask, throw off their haiks, and during the home hours regain an individuality of visage, form, and dress. This revelation of the inner life of Fez makes the city seem more human to us, less like a city of spec- ters, ghosts, and animated mummies. Nevertheless these people seem not quite real to us, for we did not actually see them, nor did
GREETS I'S WITH LOID howls"
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they see us, face to face. Next day two huge black men-slaves came to notify us that if any more mysterious boxes appeared over the garden-wall their master, now absent, should be informed, and our departure hastened.
1 86
FEZ
Photograph by Nelson Ludington B
NEIGHBORS
We had one neighbor, however, who was more sociable ; in fact, he became painfully familiar. He lived at a street corner where he enjoyed a squatter-right, for he had been squatting there without intermission for five years or more. The man is crazy. He invariably greets us with loud howls, and insists upon it that we are "his mothers! " Then, like a whining child, he teases for matches with which to light a fire. He has a mania for collecting brushwood, building fires, and then extinguishing them by calmly sitting down upon the flames, much to the detriment of his cuticle and raiment. When his clothes are burned completely off, he counts upon his prudish neighbors for a new garb. Altogether, he is decidedly eccentric even for a madman ; and he must be very
FEZ
187
mad, for hu either refuses money, or, when it is thrust upon him, tosses it a\va\' to other be^;^^ars who are al\va\'s crouch- ing near.
Toward the close of our visit we managed to scrape acquaintance with the servants of another neighbor. One was a veiled woman, who would smile at us through her mask, and another a fat negress slave, as unctuous and good- natured as any Mississippi mammy. " And are there really slaves in Fez? " some one may ask. There are ; and every day in a certain remote and cheerless market-place young negresses are sold at auction. Seldom, however, does a stranger witness this trafficking in human flesh. At his approach, buyers and sellers, slaves and auctioneers, mys- teriously vanish. Thrice we found the market-place deserted. Twice, owing to the skillful manceuvering of our guide, we sur- prised the market in full swing, and saw six little negro girls.
THE PALACE OF A RICH OFFICIAL
iSS
FEZ
AROUND THE MOORISH MAHOGANY
fresh from the barbarous regions of the south, purchased by solemn white-robed citizens at prices varying from eighty to two hundred dollars.
But do not think because our neighbors do not call upon us that we receive no social courtesies whatever. On the contrary, the Minister of Finance, the Moorish Secretary of the Treasury, one of the highest and by a curious coincidence one of the richest dignitaries in Morocco, one day, invited us to dinner. The invitation was delivered through the Britisrh vice-consul, who promised to accompany us and to see that we made no faux pas. We were not rude enough to take a camera with us, knowing the prejudices of the Moors, and therefore I have no picture of the gorgeous palace into the courtyard of which we were ushered by a group of slaves. Our host resembled the rich men we see daily in the streets.
ri:z
189
bcin.LC princely in Ix'arin.i;, hau_Lchty and reserved. CcMitrary to Moorish custom, we sat at a tal)le and on chairs, instead of on the floor. There were no other guests. As soon as wc were seated, Mr. MacLeod took from his pocket a paper parcel and opened it, displaying three pairs of knives and forks.
"I alwa)s carry these when I dine out with the Moorish swells; they don't have any," he e.\plained ; "and they like to have me bring them when they are entertaining foreign guests."
"But how do they cat.'" we asked.
"Watch his excellency, and you'll soon understand."
At this moment there appeared a huge round platter, three feet in diameter, on which has been erected a pyramid of chickens. To each of us an entire bird was given. Then our
:akryi.ng baked .meats to a feast
I90
FEZ
host, with deft fingers, tore his portion very neatly into shreds, picked out the choicest morsels of the chicken and passed them to us. Then followed pyramids of pigeons, then huge chunks of mutton, then sausages on spits ; and that those sausages were not less than two inches thick and one foot long I am positively certain, because we each were compelled to take a whole one, and I remember my vain efforts to get it all upon my plate, three inches of protruding sausage threatening the table-cloth on each side. And every course was carved by our host, who used nothing sharper than his finger-nails, and every time he came upon a morsel of espe- cial daintiness, he courteously offered it to one of us. We were almost stuffed to death, for the consul warned us that to refuse the proffered tidbits w'ould be a great affront. There were no sauces, no vegetables, nothing but meats roasted underground by slow fires that had burned all night. We had noth- ing with which to wash down this " all too solid food except sick- ly lukewarm rose- water. And not content with stuff- ing us and forc- ing us to drink that perfumed liquid, our host would every now and then give a signal, where- upon the servants
" LET MK BK AN AMERICAN FOR A MINUTE 1 '
FEZ
191
IHK " MELI.AH " OR "gHKTTO" OF FEZ
would spray stronger rosewater down our backs and in our ears. Never was anything more welcome than the tiny cups of Turkish coffee that at last were brought to end our tort- ures. I could not blame my friend, when, on our return to our own house, he declared that he had had enough of Oriental luxury, exclaiming as Haj brought the "antidotes," ' ' Let me be an American for a minute ! ' '
The table was served by two slaves, and by a young man whose bearing told us that he was no servant. He was, in fact, the eldest son of our host. Custom commands that the son should wait upon the father's guests. Imagine this cus- tom introduced at Washington, and picture the sons of a cabinet-official passing huge finger-bowls around the banquet table !
As for our conversation, it turned first upon the only mod- ern institution in the city, the Arsenal and Rifle Factory of the Sultan. The secretary spoke of course in Arabic, the
192
FEZ
vice-consul acting as interpreter. Then we were questioned regarding the city whence we come, Chicago ; and, being native-born Chicagoans, no urging was required to wring from us the story of the great phoenix city on the shore of the American inland sea. We described " skyscrapers, " elevat- ors, cable-cars, and trolleys. Then we told of the World's Fair, visited in one day by seven times more people than
A PLACli OK WHITED SEPULCHERS "
reside in Fez, and then with a keener interest the secretary listened to the incredible figures relating to the movements of wheat and corn and to the shipments of beef and mutton. Next, as a climax, we launched enthusiastically into pork statistics, but our spokesman checks us with the caution : " Hush ! Don't shock his Excellency ; remember his relig- ious prejudices. Don't say a word about the pigs. You know the Moslem eats no pork." Therefore we leave our host unenlightened regarding the pet industry of our western metropolis.
FEZ
'93
The next day we devote to the Jewish (jiiartcr, a distinct and separate city, called the " Mellah. " We approach it through the Hebrews' burial ground, a place of whited sepul- chers, dwellings for the dead, and dingy huts, temporary abodes for hving men and women ; for there are two popula- tions in the Jewish cemetery, a fixed population of the wealthy dead, a passing population of the living poor. You must remember that in these Moorish cities the Jews are still com- pelled to dwell apart from true believers. Their houses are confined in the restricted Mellah, where no provision was originally made for an increase of population. Therefore the poorer and the weaker Jews have been squeezed out of its gates and have found refuge here in the city of the dead, where they have built crude huts and begun life anew. The streets or passageways are, however, far cleaner than those of the in- ner Mel- lah, a n d we cannot but agree that resi- dence in
UiHBdRS OK THK \VK\1 IM \- IiK^P
196
FEZ
the freer atmosphere of this city of the dead is preferable to Hviiig- on the other side of yonder walls, where every inch of space is occupied, where the atmosphere is heavy with bad odors, and where sunshine and fresh air are thin<;s almost unknown.
A poor old Jew, a man with a large dependent family, serves as our guide. He tells of the misery of his people, begs me to repeat in my own land the story of their woe. It
A HO.Mfc; l.\ THK CEMETERY
FEZ
197
is not tlie Sultan, he says, who is most cruel to them ; it is the rich men, the elders and the rabbis of his own t r i be whom he accuses of injustice.
The right to build these shelters in the cemetery w'as grant- ed by the Sultan to the poor, w^hen the overcrowding of the Mellah proper be- came a menace to the public health. Nevertheless, no poor man is permit- ted to take up his abode among these cast-out members of the tribe until he has paid certain fees to the headmen of the quarter. He says that the op- pression of Jew by Jew is harder to bear than the much- talked-of oppression to which the children of Israel have been subjected by the Sons of Ishmael. The statements of our pauper guide surprised us, but what he said was con- firmed by every poor Jew with whom we talked. Thev all declared that the rich elders and the rabbis of their own tribe were their hardest masters. A wealthy man, with whom we discussed the question later, assured us that his class had almost impoverished itself with charities, that the cause of all the evil lay in the decrease of commerce and the rapid increase of the Jewish population. The poor, undoubtedlv.
llIK WALLS OF THK "MKLLAH
198
FEZ
are very poor ; and though the rich live in apparent luxury and comfort, it cannot be true that Fez is the only city in the world where the rich Jews abandon their own people to starvation and distress. The noble Jewish charities throughout the world argue the contrary, and even in Fez the philanthropy of European Jews is manifest in the excellent school established here in this very Mellah by the French branch of the Israelite Alliance.
We can assure all those who have given pecuniary support to the Alliance that the money is here spent conscientiously, and that the work now doing among the Moor- ish Jews is nobly done and worthy the sym-
.l J 1. ^C ,„^xr 1^,r^^ A FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD MOTHER
pathy and encouragement of every lover
of humanity. But in spite of the educational and civilizing
IN THE MAZE OF REF.KING ALLEYS
FEZ
199
influences of the school, many reforms in customs remain to be effected, and it is to be hoped tiiat in the future, a daughter of the Mellah will not be given in marriage at the age of ten and, like one girl we saw, be mother of a family at fourteen years of age, and become at twenty-five a hideous old woman. Let us hope that in another genera- tion girl-children who at fourteen are still unmarried will not be regarded, as they are to-day, in the light of hopeless spinsters.
As for the sanitary reforms demanded in the Mellah, you have but to enter the crowded streets to be convinced that they are numberless. Here Jews are packed like live sar- dines in greasy boxes. Pierre Loti describes the Mellah as "an airless huddle of houses squeezed together as if screwed in a compress, and emitting all sorts of stifling odors."
JEWISH COBBLERS
200
FEZ
OLD MEN \MIO LOOK THE PART OF SHVLOCK "
Again lie tells of finding here " moldy smells in varieties that are not known elsewhere. " But how is it possible to expect cleanliness on the part of people who are denied a
A^i tNGLISH HO.MI-; IN FEZ
IN THE MIDST OF THE " MELLAH
FEZ
203
THK lAMll.V oy BKNSIMON
Moorish scavenger should lose his fee ; people who are de- spised by their Moslem fellow-citi;iens, called ' ' dogs, ' ' and forced to walk barefooted through the streets of Moorish Fe;; ? As a crowning indignity, the Moors have decreed that the place of deposit for dead animals, from cats to camels, shall be at the gate of the Mellah ; and every night the jackals feast and sing their death chants beneath the walls of this
IN TINV SHOTS SIT
>l.n- AM> SUA i K
204
FEZ
unhappy Jewish cit\'. We are surprised, however, to find here and there a touch of color in the dress of these unfortu- nate inhabitants, for black has always been the uniform imposed upon the Jew. Black is to Moorish minds the color of disgrace ; hence were the Jews compelled to w^ear black caps and gaberdines. To-day, however, this regulation is not so rigidly enforced, although the general tone of the men s dress is very somber.
In every street we see old men, who could, without a change of raiment, step on the theatrical stage and look the part of Shylock to the life. In tiny shops, like niches bordering these streets, sit the gold- and silver-smiths, the lawyers, scribes, and money-changers ; there are few idlers here. Jewish industry and thrift here rise superior to the discouraging surroundings. A few shops boast a supply of foreign merchandise. The merchants greet us with a polite
'' biicnos dias/' and converse in fluent Span- ish ; for besides Hebrew and Arabic, these people speak the language of the land from which their fathers were cruelly cast out by Spanish kings.
KIVE O CLOCK TKA I.N A lllCHKliW HOLSIiHOLD
Fi:z
20:
The com- merce of the land is largely in the hands of Moorish Jews, who are forbid- den by law to leave the coun- try, lest a gen- eral exodus occur, and the trade of the en- tire empire, de- prived of their fostering care, languish and ultimately die. Many large for- tunes have been accumulated here, by usury and commerce. We made a formal call one Sabbath afternoon at the home of one of the richest Jews in Fez, old Mr. Bensimon. Magnificent, indeed, is the interior of the house, with its carved, painted doors, its stucco arabesques, immaculate tiled floors, and richly furnished rooms. The Bensimons are of the old conserva- tives. They speak no Spanish and have no knowledge of anything away from their immediate surroundings. The Mellah is their world ; their house is one of the rare oases of elegance in the midst of a wilderness of squalor. But they are all very gracious to us ; of the two pretty little girls, eleven and thirteen years of age, respectively, the elder is already married, the younger is a fiance'e.
A curious incident gave us an insight into the reality of their religion. To amuse our host we performed some tricks
A HKBREW HOME
2o6
FEZ
AT THE SCHOOL OF THE ISRAELITE ALLIANCE
of sleight-of-hand. Producing a silver dollar, I asked the aged father to assure himself that it was a real dollar, not tampered with in any way. He seemed reluctant to pick up the coin.
"You must not urge him," said our guide. " It is the Jewish Sabbath ; a Jew may not touch filthy lucre on the holy day. "
Before departing we were asked to take tea with the family, and were forthwith ushered into an apartment, fur- nished with that crude gaudiness that is the result of Oriental imitation of Occidental fashions. Of their "European Room ' ' they are as proud as we are of our so-called "Oriental dens." The mirrors, clocks, sofas, and chande- liers, imported from the continent, are the envy of their neighbors.
Tea-drinking in Morocco is a solemn ceremony, to the stranger almost a sickening one. A handful of tea is put in the teapot, and the pot is filled to the very top with sugar, broken from a huge cone loaf ; then boiling water is poured
FEZ
207
on. Then a bouquet of mint is thrust into this saturated solution of suf^^ar anci tea. Next, half a ^^Massful is thrown away to exorcise evil spirits, and then one glassful is boldly swallowed by the host to reassure the guests by proving that there is no intent to poison them. Extravagant as this may sound, it is a necessary bit of etiquette in a land where tea- parties are so often fatal to a rich man s enemies. Finally, little painted glasses full of mint tea are served to all, and the traditional three rounds of this abominable concoction — a sort of warm and flat mint-julep, with the true soul of a mint-julep lacking — must be drunk on pain of being thought ill-bred. If the glasses are not completely emptied every time, the residue is complacently turned back into the teapot, to which more mint and water have meantime been added; and the greatt r noise we make in drinking the tea, the better are our manners thought to be. The re- suiting sounds at a really fashion- able tea-part}- suggest the re- leasing of the air- brakes on a rail- way train.
During the function, sticky sweetmeats and preserved fruits, that are as revolt- ing as they are adhesive, are
" KINDLY PACKS SMILINT. DOWN "
20S
FEZ
passed repeatedly, and every time we are expected to accept and eat. I nearly ruined my digestion in an attempt to be polite. My friend, more happily situated, is able to pour most of his tea out of the window, and deftly to drop the sticky abominations out upon the heads of the passers-by.
Escaping tinalh', we make another call, this time upon the little colony connected with the mission school of the French Israelite Alliance. We find it most refreshing to meet a group of educated people, with whom to talk of all the strange things we have seen. Among them are the teachers, sent from France, their wives and families, and also a number of the most progressive Jews in Fez. The boys are students of the school, and a fat one is presented as the prize pupil of the institution, the pride and admiration of his teachers \\-ho put him through his paces at a blackboard
" "IfgTI
OUR GUKSTS
FEZ
211
to convince ns of his cleverness. He certainly did /:(allop throu/^h arithmetical puz/les with rapidity and ease, and answered the questions that we propounded with a facility that put us (luite to shame, for we could think of nothin<< dif- ficult enouf^h to stagger him for a moment.
Then, after another infliction of mint tea and some sweet- meats that seemed like sugar-coated sausages, we take our
leave, descend the narrow stair- way, and pass out into the dingy little street. An ava- lanche of shouts and laugh- ter overwhelms us, and
ISRAELITE SOCIETY IN FEZ
looking up we see the sky-line of the house adorned with a border of kindly faces, smiling down a cheery " uu rcvoir.'" For it has been arranged that we are all to meet again upon the morrow. These new-found friends have been invited to spend the day at our villa, to attend a picnic in our garden, to forget, there in the leafy spaciousness of our temporary abode, the cramped and airless houses of the Mellah.
212
FEZ
There are no private gardens in the Mellah, lack of space forbids ; nor are there pub- lic gardens in the Moorish city. Therefore the Jews must take their air and sun- shine on the housetops, where level terraces, surrounded by low parapets, af- ford them oppor- tunities to bake themselves in the torrid atmosphere of Africa. Need- less to say, our invitation was accepted, and next morning, shortly after breakfast, a caravan of white-robed guests makes its appearance at our garden door. The women have ridden on mule-back across the city, for they are all proteges of France, and therefore are not compelled to go about on foot, like nearly all their co-religionists.
Great preparations have been made by Haj for their entertainment. He has adorned the house and court-yard with objects borrowed from unsuspecting owners. Let me explain that almost every evening when we return from rambles in the city, we find awaiting us two or three dealers in curios, rugs, old brocades, and Moorish weapons ; their goods spread out in a most artistic, tempting fashion. Haj has induced the men who came the night before to leave
EVERYWHERE THE SOUTJD OF RUNNING WATER
1-1 :z
213
their ^oods on approval until tin; followin;^ e\(-nin<^' ; and thus it is that we are able to ^na our picnic a rich Oriental set- ting without incurring any great expense. In the picture of the merrymakers it may be interesting to identify my friend, who sits on the extreme left, robed in a white burnoose. Then on the right is Ilaj. drussed in his best ; near him there sits an old gray-bearded man. He is our only Moorish guest, one of the few Moors who is free from the prejudices of his race, who does not fear to sit at meat with Jews and Chris- tians ; moreover, he speaks Spanish fluently. Hut he is more of a good fellow than a good Mohammedan ; to our knowledge he dares to disregard the rule of total abstinence imposed upon the nation, for in his home there is a secret cellar filled with wine. And, curiously, this old /jo?i vivaut, who to-dav makes merry with us in our Moorish garden, bears the same name as he who sang the joys of the jug in a Persian garden long ago ; his name, too, is Omar.
Our guests remain with us from morning until evening, departing just before the hour when the great wooden gates
"NOTHING KKMINISCKNT OK Illh
214
FEZ
of every district are closed securely for the night. In Fez, the populace keeps early hours. After nine o'clock it is impossible to enter or to leave the city or even to pass from one quarter to another, be it adjacent or remote. The gates once closed, each district is completely isolated, and all who are shut in must wait till morning to escape ; all who are shut out must spend the night away from home, unless they be men of influence, or carry written orders for the opening of the barriers. There is, of course, nothing to do at night ; there are no theaters, clubs, or evening parties ; the city life dies out at sunset. The people go to their homes before the gates are closed. There is by night no movement save the
flowing of the waters. A river sings its way through the heart of Fez, and swift canals are laughing in every quarter. There is everywhere in Fez the sound of running water, as in Rome, as at Nikko in Japan, as round the hill of the Alhambra. The sound is thus asso- ciated in my mind with four of the most fascinating places in the world. There is not in the entire city a building that is reminiscent of the cities of our world ; there is no smoke,
THE STREET THAT SKIRTS OUR GARDEN WALL
Fi:z
217
and there are no chimneys ; there are no vehicles of any kind in Fez, there is but (Jiie wheeled vehicle in the whole l£rn- pire ; it is the state-coach given by Queen \'ictoria to the Sultan, a curiosity that is exhibited on state occasions, but a turnout in which the Sultan never rides. There is no noise
" ROOFLESS DL'NGEONS THAT SERVK AS STREETS"
in Fez — no noise as we understand the word ; there are sounds, pleasant and unpleasant, but the ceaseless roar of western cities is not there. The stru^^gle for existence is almost a silent struggle. Moreover, I believe that Fez is in a higher state of civilization, and that its people are less given to crime than are the dwellers in the poorer quarters of London, Paris, and New York. It is safe for a Moorish
2l8
FEZ
citizen to walk these crowded streets by day ; at ni^ht he sleeps securely in his home. There is no flagrant immorality, yet there is no regular police.
The streets of Fez can never cease to astonish men from the modern world. We may have seen similar settings on the stage, similar costumes in pictures or museums ; so these are not new to us. What astonishes us is that these things should anywhere form a part of the actual daily life of men and women of our own time. And this life does not even touch our life ; its points of contact with the outside world are few. Commercial Fez communicates with the mysterious regions of the south, with Senegambia and Timbuctu, by means of camel fleets that traverse seas of sand. This com-
" THERK IS NO NOISE IN FEZ"
FEZ
219
Photograph by Nelson Ludington Barnes
THE SACRED HOLR OF MOGHREB
merce has naught in common with the commerce of our world ; its methods and its means of transport are totally
220
FEZ
foreign to our own, and its itineraries are far beyond our ken.
But this city that appears so dim and so mysterious as we walk through the roofless dungeons that serve as streets, reveals to us a brilliant, dazzling aspect, when, disregarding the unwritten law forbidding men to go upon housetops, we
LAST l;VliMNG IN FEZ
venture out upon the terrace of our villa. The roof terraces are sacred to the women ; there they may bare their faces in the light of day, there they may lay aside their shrouds, and, bathed in the soft evening light, appear for a brief space as living women, — women with charms and personalities. The men of Fez have tacitly agreed that on the housetops the women shall be free from male observation, free to forget that they are practically slaves. We could not bind our-
\VHERK INEF.LIKNKRS SF.I.DOM TKKAD
FEZ
223
selves to keep this courteous law, the view from our roof terrace was too tempting. All Fez was there spread out before us, Fez with its snowy dwellings reflecting the golden rays of the declining sun, Fez with its minarets, its mosques, its palaces ; Fez with its streets seldom trodden by the feet of un- believers, its sacred places never polluted by an alien glance.
"the FIKRCE SrRROlNDING COINTRN
Old Fez so long the city of our dreams, now become the city of our waking thoughts, is soon to become the city of our reminiscences. For alas ! this is to be our last evening in the holy city. The limit of official tolerance is reached ; our passports have been suggestively returned, and, knowing the futility of protest, we dine in regretful silence close to the open window that we may not lose a single phase of the ever-changing coloring and lighting of the picture there revealed to us. For the last time we watch the city grow dim in the twilight ; although we have witnessed
224 FEZ
ten times the dying' of the day from this same window, the spectacle has not lost its charm, the picture has not lost its fascinating mystery. A sojourn of ten days in Fez has not dissipated, it has but deepened the sense of mystery. But we, to our surprise, have not yet suffered from that strange mental disease, the "longing to get away " that infallibly attacks ambassadors and representatives of foreign powers and is a political force upon which Moorish diplomats may count to rid them of annoying visitors who have come to press vexing demands upon their government. At last a sudden glow, like a great flood of lire, overspreads the city ; it is the glow of sunset, the last signal of the dying day, and for a moment it suffuses the entire heavens, as if there were a distant world in conflagration. Fez has assumed a shroud of black ; it is the sacred hour of Moghreb, and the lower darkness is resounding with the cries of the Muezzin, those cries of intense faith, those wailing laments that seem to express the nothingness of all things earthly.
The Moors speak of their country as " Moghreb-al-Aksa, " the "Country of the Setting Sun." How prophetic ! — for in very truth the sun of civilization has set forever upon this land, and though its past be brilliant as the heavenly sunset fires, its future is as dim as the soft-footed night that, steal- ing in from the black, fierce surrounding country, broods like a pall of death above the sleeping city of the Moors.
THROUGH THE HEART OF THE MOORISH EMl'IRH
|
— H 1 |
||
|
n 4 |
HROUGH THE HEART
OF THE
MOORISH EMPIRE
THE spell of mystery is still upon Morocco. The Moors are still the people of romance. Of the land we know- comparatively little ; of the race as it exists to-day we know still less. Christendom assumes that the Moorish Empire expired with the last sigh of Boabdil. leaving the Alhambra as its only legacy.
Almost novel is the thought that the Moors still live as a nation ; that Morocco is to-day v*-hat Spain would have become had the forces of the Prophet prevailed in the Penin- sula. Who would not welcome as a precious privilege the possibility of turning back the pages of history in Spain, to revel in the actual Moorish life as it was lived before the Christian victories of 1492 ? Who would not gladly leave, at least for a short space, the familiar round of present-day
228
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
existence and the hackneyed paths of travel, to plunge into a past so picturesque, to see a civilization so refined and yet so utterly unlike our own ? No reader of Washington Irving but has longed to people with white-clad cavaliers the courts on the Alhambra Hill, to hear the Arab accents in the streets of old Granada, or the murmuring of the Moslem prayers in the old mosques. But why persist in holding Spain to be the sole stage on which the Moors appropriately can play their parts ?
Morocco was their home ere Spain was conquered for them. When Andalusia ungratefully cast out the race that brought it light and knowledge at a time when Europe groped in the blackness of deep ignorance, back to Morocco went the Empire of the Moors. Empires rise and fall. The Moorish Empire rose but did not fall ; it was shaken but not shattered ; it is still erect. It stands a living skeleton wrapt in the shroud of Islam, its hollowness concealed by the vague folds of ceremonial observances ; its government a pompous sham ; its cities empty imposing shells of former great- ness ; its boundless plains the haunts of savage Berber tribes to whom the Emperor is but a name, the Empire a free space in which to ride broad-chest- ed chargers and do battle with heredi- tary enemies.
In two preceding lectures I have told the story of a jour- ney into Morocco, and of a sojourn in ON THK ROAD TO MEQuiNEz pez, the metropoHs
THE MOORISH ENHMRE
31
of the Moors. Thc^re yet remains to tell a third, coiiclud- \n<:; chapter of the tale the narrative of tlie return fnnn Fez to the sea, from a remote yesterday back to the world of to-day. " Out of Morocco " would serve as an appropriate heading for this chapter, — a chapter rich in adventure and in picturesque e.xperiences. P^or ten days we have dwelt in
BRinr.PTs coMrKTi-:
medieval Moslem Fe;^ — unwelcome visitors, objects of sus- picion to the jealous Moors.
Two routes are open to us — the direct road to Tangier and the less-frequented road to Rabat on the Atlantic Coast. Despite the protest of the authorities, who warn us of many dangers, we chose the road that leads westward to Mequinez, the Beni-Hasan Plain, and the Atlantic. But the word "road" must be regarded onlv in its Moroccan sense. As
232
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
has been said already, there are no roads in this wild land ; the slow caravans and the swift troops of Moorish horsemen have followed the hoofmarks left by the caravans or troops
MIDWAY BETWEEN FEZ AND MEQUINKZ
which have preceded them, until a system of narrow trails meandering in uncertain parallels has been created between the inland cities and the sea.
These Moorish highways were never surveyed and never tended ; like Topsy — who, also, by the way, was an African product — they were never born, "they just growed ; " and like Topsy they are wilfully unreasonable ; they exasperate us by their defiance of conventionality ; amuse us with their peculiar antics, and delight us with preposterous surprises.
As an example, take tiie highway that leads from Fez to the neighboring city of Mequinez. As we approach a river,
THi: MOORISH KMFIKi:
233
the wandcrin^f trails coincrj^c and form a beaten track that grows more and more like a real road as it winds down toward a substantial bridge. Hut just as we are about to compliment the road on its reform, it suddenly grows weary of good behavior, becomes rebellious, and, like a balky mule, refuses to cross the bridge. Incredible as it may seem to those who do not know this land of contradictions, Moorish roads will not cross Moorish rivers by means of Moorish bridges. The old way is preferred. T'ording was good enough in the old days, and it is good enough to-day. The roads turn sharply from the bridge abutments, scramble down the muddy banks, and plunge into the yellow rivers to emerge slimy and dripping on the opposite shore. The bridges, pon- derously useless, studiously neglected, are falling into decay, and have become almost impassable.
We pitch our camp not far from one of those disdained reminders of an attempt at progress. We are midway between Fez and Mequinez in a region notorious because of the thieving bands with which it is infested. It appears
234
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
wholly unpeopled ; yet we are not without misgivings, for, of our caravan, four nuiles and two men have gone astray. With us are Haj, the dragoman, Achmedo, the valet, and the muleteers, Abuktayer and Bokhurmur. The missing are Raid Lharbi, the military escort, and the new packer who joined our force in Fez. We have our tent and Haj's kitchen ; the other tents and all the supplies and furniture are in the packs of the missing mules somewhere on this gloomy plain, possibly already become the loot of some law- less sheik, or, as we hope, merely delayed because of broken harness, or gone astray because of a mistaken trail. Our groundless fears are set at rest an hour later by the safe arrival of the precious convoy, and once more our palates are delighted by the delicious dinner cooked by Haj, our thirst quenched by cooled oranges, and our weary bodies laid to rest upon our comfortable camp-cots.
WIFE, CHILD, AND SLAVE
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
235
After the con- finement incidcMit to our residence in city quarters, the free life of thi: plains is doubly exhilarating, and we find intense pleasure in the satisfaction of the simple, keen desires to eat, drink, and sleep. All food is good, all drink is bet- ter, sleep the sweetest gift of the gods.
The morning "yosoychino, senor"
finds us early in the saddle ; four hours' westward prog- ress brings us at noon to one of those rare oases of shadow in this bare land of sunshine. Here hunger, thirst, and weariness are again assuaged by food and drink and sleep. Sharp darts of brilliant, blinding sunshine burn through the leafy masses of the two fig-trees, and with almost malicious persistence pursue the would-be slumberer, who, to avoid this, must every no\v and then crawl after the receding shadows.
But we are not the only travelers who have sought mid- day shelter in this forest. On our approach we were greeted by a family group, — a man and woman with a little child, and a black slave. To our surprise the man addressed us in Spanish : —
''' Biioios dias, Scuor. Inibla listed Esf^auol ?"
2^6
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
''Si, SeTior, loi poro,'' we reply, and then begins an interesting conversation.
"Where are your animals?" we ask.
"Stolen with all my goods, last night," he answers. " We must now go on foot to Fez to report our loss to the authorities. "
We learn that our unfortunate friend is a maker of sausage cases, that he lives in Mequinez, and that he is hospitably inclined ; for in return for our sympathy, he begs us to make use of his house in ^^^^^*^^^^ Mequinez, where an- other of his wives ^^ ^^k will welcome us and give us food and ^ ^ lodging.
K Ul Sk> CHAKcJ-;
This strange offer of hospitality, coupled with a some- thing in the man's expression leads me to say, " But, Seiior, you are not like a Moor."
" Why should I be .'' " he smilingly asks. " To, yo soy Chiiioy "I, I am a Chinese."
THE MOORISH IIMFIRI^:
239
He is the happy father of a dainty httle ^irl, a tNjje of Chinese beaut}', and two histy boys, who bear ujxjn their faces maps of Pekinj^ and Canton. The nej^ress, his slave, he is sending back to Mequinez with tidings of his loss. Haj,
MULAI ISMAIL S WALL
with Occidental gallantry, offers the dusky damsel his place on a pack-mule, and after the exchange of many kindnesses our little company, made up of individuals so diverse in race, in language, and in thought, breaks up.
Our Chinese Moor with wife and child go trudging of! toward Fez, while the American caravan with its Arab escort and African passenger moves toward the other great interior city, Mequinez. Long before we come in sight of Mequinez, we find our progress barred by a huge wall forty feet or more in heijrht, stretchint^ awav in two directions as far as the eve
240
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
\\ ,\Niii-.KiN(. wall:
can reach. But there are ogive archways, through which our caravan passes as freely as the sunshine or the breeze. There are no gates, no guards, to hinder us. On we file across vacant fields until we reach a second wall as forbidding as the first and apparently as interminable.
"What are these walls.'" we ask. " Why were they built ? what purpose can they serve .'* ' '
And Haj tells us that they were reared to protect the city from the turbulent surrounding tribes, to cut off, if need be, the approach of hostile bands.
A third wall, wide and high, beginning at the city gate wanders away toward the south, its utility not easily divined. As we trace its curving course over a distant ridge, we think of the Roman aqueducts in the Campagna, and of the great wall of China, for this unknown Moorish work vies with those famous masses of masonry in impressiveness of aspect if not in hugeness and in length of years. It was the creation of the crazy Sultan, Mulai Ismail, a contemporary of Louis XIV, of France, a Moorish emperor who suffered from a mania for masonry, and made his people suffer that he might satisfy his madness for works of colossal inutility.
THE MOORISH i:mimki-:
241
One of his wildest i)rojccts was tlic huildiii}^ of an ele- vated boulevard, two hundred miles in length, alon;^ wliich he could ride from Mequinez to Morocco City, safe from the attack of the rebellious tribesmen who hold the intervening provinces.
The hujj^e north gate of this his favored city appears to us as we approach late in the afternoon like the entrance to some " mysterious nowhere. ' It seems to be a portal to the emptv sky, a door through which the traveler might pass into the infinity of space. It is, in fact, the gate of an almost deserted metropolis, a city that was built for a population of one hundred thousand and contains to-day less than six thousand souls. Small wonder that we find it empty and forsaken in aspect as we pass from court to court and through gate after gate. There are in Mequinez more houses vacant than occupied, more roofs fallen than intact, more palaces in ruins than huts in good repair. The Sultan is forced to maintain a palace here, for Mequinez ranks with
LIKE THK PORTAL TO A " MYSTERIOUS NOWHKRE' Ifi
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
IHK SILTAN'S PALACE — MEQLINEZ
Fez and Morocco City as one of the three capitals of the Moorish Empire, each city jealous of its dignity as the abode of the Imperial master.
The Sultan always dwells amid the wreck of ages. The snow-white palace of the actual sovereign may be seen rising above the crumbling walls of the Imperial Garden. Around
THROUGH GAIl, Al I l.K i.AIl, '
THE MOORISH I:MP
'■4^
Photograph by NeUon Ludinpton Barne<;
'BORN OK AN IMPERIAL MANIA FOR MASONRY "
it are vague piles of age-worn masonry, the abandoned pal- aces of emperors who ruled here in the past. Custom demands that on the death of a Sultan his palace be aban- doned and a new one built for his successor. It is regarded as a sacrilege for any one to occupy the abode of a departed emperor. Thus, during the centuries, these imperial inclos-
244
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
ures in all the Moorish cities htUe become encumbered with acres of deca\'inj^' palaces in which bats and owls hold carnival.
In Mequinez everything speaks of Mulai Ismail, the tyrant Sultan of the seventeenth century, that imperial monster whose deeds surpass in horror those of Nero or Caligula, the ruins
AN ARTIFICAL LAKE
of whose palaces and public works rival in magnitude the Roman mountains of brick and stone upon the Palatine or in the broad Campagna.
Mulai Ismail built three miles of stables for his twelve thousand horses. We see, to-day, the endless aisles of arches where his chargers were lodged in splendor, every ten horses tended by a negro slave. As a horseman, he was superb. It is said that he was able, in one graceful movement, to
ENOI.KSS AISLKS OF ARCHES
THE MOORISH i:mimih-:
247
mount his steed, draw his sword, and neatly decapitate the slave who held his stirrup. He held tliat to die by his imper- ial hand insured immediate entry into paradise, and throuj(h- out the latter part of his life of eij^hty-one vigorous years he went about his land dispensing, with his scimitar, passports to a beatitudinous eternity. Twent}' thousand of his subjects were thus favored, h>iday beinf( tiie day chosen by the imper- ial murderer for ^^^ these execution- ary exer- ^ ^^^^^^^ cises. His pet lions .^r^ ^^W were fed
upon
sic
were treated ^ better than his
, ., , , , OUR CAMP IN THE KASBAH
children, though one disobedient
cat was formally executed by his order. Workmen caught idling on the walls, at which his myriad slaves and prisoners were unceasingly engaged, were tumbled into the molds and rammed down into the concrete.
An incredibly atrocious deed crowned his career of crime. A wife suspected of infidelity was tilled with powder and blown to pieces. The mere drowning of a wife in the small artificial lake was but a gentle pastime. He had two
24S
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
thousand wives. As to the number of his children we must accept the word of an ambassador of Louis XI\', who visited the court of Mulai Ismail in 1703. He asked the favorite son how many brothers and sisters he possessed. After two days spent in compihng a catalogue, the Prince submitted the names of hve hundred and twenty-five brothers and three hundred and forty-two sisters. Later reports give the num- ber of sons who lived to mount horse the astounding total of seven hundred. To create palaces and to people them was the life-work of Mulai Ismail.
One incident that makes this impossible man seem real to us is this : He actually sent ambassadors to France to demand of Louis XIV the hand of Mile, de Blois, the natural daugh- ter of the King and Louise de la Valliere ! The honor was declined in polite terms by the Grand Monarque.
THK GATt. Kl kAsliMl Ml-v' IM--'-
'I'm: MOORISH i:mpiri:
249
STl'DVING THE STRANGERS
111 Muhii s day Jiuiopeans were not strangers to Morocco ; but they came — not as we come to-day, as travelers with tents and guides to camp freely for a few sunny days under the imperial walls — they came as slaves and captives taken from merchant-ships by j)irates ; the}- came with chains and manacles, to toil for dark, hopeless years in building these same walls, in piling up these useless miles of mud, brick, and cement. Th^' thought of the sufferings endured by them makes doubly strange our actual comfort ; the dangers of the living past throw into striking con- trast the security of the dead pres- ent. We are not even annoyed by crowds. Perhaps there are no crowds in Mequinez to-day. The only citizen who deigns to take an interest in us is an old man who rides up on a tiny donkey and sits studying the strangers with a plainly puzzled look upon his wrinkled face. That he may not depart without some mark of our apprecia- tion of his call, we display our modern arsenal, a shotgun and a rifle, testing the latter by firing at an eagle that is soaring overhead. By chance the shot is a successful one. Down comes the big bird like a meteorite, grazing the donkey's ear, and falling with a thud at his astonished nose ; whereupon our visitor having seen enough rides off in silence to tell of our prowess in the half-deserted bazaars.
From Mequinez we carry away impressions as enduring as its walls and gates. We know that we shall never forget the sadness of this empty city, its silence, and its forlorn magnifi- cence. In all Morocco there is no more artistic structure than the Kasbah Gate of Mequinez. It is as it was ; no
2;o
THE MOORISH EMPIRE
restoration has marred it. Time has but softened it, made it more beautiful. Corinthian pillars, brought from the ruins of the Roman city of Volubilis, add to its dignity and tell of a civilization that long antedates that of the Arab conquerors. It, too, like every gate and every palace in the city of Mulai Ismail recounts its tragedv. The man whose mind conceived
GOOD SHOOTING IN THE HEART OF THE CITY
its form, its intricate designs, its unsymmetrical perfections, fell victim to his artist-pride. For, when the Sultan com- plimented him on his achievements, he declared that he could build a gate more beautiful, more imposing, did the imperial master so desire ; and this boast cost the architect his eyes, for the Sultan was resolved that this, his favorite gate, should have no rival and no peer. Less beautiful, but more impos- ing is the great North Gate by which we enter and through which we ride out into the black, treacherous country. Our
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253
THK BENI-HASAN I'l.AlN
n aleteers have halted at a fountain to drink and })ray ; for the fountain marks the burial-place of a great Moslem saint, the founder of the fraternity of the Hamdouchi, a kindred society to that of the fanatical Aissaoua, a sect of self-tor- turers and religious maniacs.
Devotions ended, the caravan reforms, and we find our- ves trailing across an ;mpty land, which we have been warned on no account to enter. Two days of un- eventful travel over the hills of a rolling region brings us to the brink of the in- :<rior highland, from \v h i c h we look down upon the level plain that stretches westward to the wide
THE NORTH GATE OK MEQUINEZ
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THE MOORISH EMPIRE
A SOk'O IN THtC \V1 LOKRNESS
Atlantic, many miles away. Below us lies the country of the famous Beni-Hasan tribe. The " Sons of Hasan " are fa- mous as horsemen, warriors, and pirates of the plain. Our route lies westward across their territory to the seaport city called Rabat, where we hope to embark in due time on one of the infrequent coasting-steamers that ply up and down the western coast of Africa.
As we descend the steep trail winding down from the hill region, we look in vain for any sign of town or village. A few clumps of dark green trees and yellow streams are all that break the dull monotony of the wide vista, — all, save a patch of gray, which looks at first like a heap of rags spread out for an airing and a sunning. But as we draw nearer to it, we observe that the rag-pile is alive, that it swarms and moves in slow confusion. Each rag enwraps a human-being ; there are at least a thousand of them come together
THE MOORISH i:NnMRI-:
55
in this desert-place to buy and barter food and drnik and raiment.
A curious feature of commerce in Morocco are these fairs held periodically in chosen localities, far from any settlement or village. A few days later this