My Travels in Morocco. James Richardson

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СКАЧАТЬ cities possess. The emperors, indeed, have been wont to call it "the City of Christians." In the environs, there is at times a good deal of game, and the European residents go out to shoot, as one is wont in other countries to talk a walk. The principal game is the partridge and hare, and the grand sport, the wild boar. Our officers of the Gibraltar garrison come over for shooting. But quackery and humbug exist in everything. A young gentleman has just arrived from Gibraltar, who had been previously six weeks on his passage from Holland to that place, with his legs infixed in a pair of three-league boots. He says he has come from Holland on purpose to sport and hunt in Morocco. Several of the consuls, when they go out sporting, metamorphose themselves into veteran Numidian sportsmen. You would imagine they were going to hunt lions for months in the ravines of the Atlas, whereas it is only to shoot a stray partridge or a limping hare, or perchance they may meet with a boar. And this they do for a couple of days, or twenty-four hours, sleeping during the night very snugly under tents, and fed and feasted with milk, fowls, and sheep by the Arabs.

      Morocco, like all despotic countries, furnishes some severe examples of the degrading of high functionaries. There is an old man, Sidi-El-Arby-Es-Said, living there, who is a marked victim of imperial tyranny. Some years ago, the conqueror despoiled him of all his wealth, and threw him into prison, after he had been twenty years bashaw of this district. He was in prison one year with his two sons. The object of the Emperor was to extort the last filse of his money; and he entirely succeeded. The oppressor, however, relented a little on the death of one of his victim's sons; released him from confinement, and gave the ex-bashaw two houses, one for himself and the other for his surviving son. The old captain of the port has been no less than a dozen times in prison, under the exhausting pressure of the Emperor. After the imperial miser has copiously bled his captain, he lets him out to fill his skin again. The old gentleman is always merry and loyal, in spite of the treatment from his imperial taskmaster.

      Very funny stories are told by the masters of the small craft, who transport the bullocks from hence to Gibraltar. The government of that place are only allowed to export, at a low duty per annum, a certain number of bullocks. The contractor's agents come over; and at the moment of embarking the cattle, something like the following dialogue frequently ensues.

      Agent of Contractor.—"Count away!"

      Captain of the Port.—"One, two, three, &c. Thirty, forty. Ah! stop! stop! too many."

      Agent of Contractor.—"No, you fool, there are only thirty."

      Captain of the Port.—"You lie! there are forty."

      Agent of Contractor.—"Only thirty, I tell you," (putting three or four dollars into his hand).

      Captain of the Port.—"Well, well, there are only thirty."

      And, in this way, the garrison of Gibraltar often gets 500 or 1,000 head of cattle more than the stipulated number, at five dollars per head duty instead of ten. Who derives the benefit of peculation I am unable to state. An anecdote recurs to me of old Youssef, Bashaw of Tripoli, illustrative of the phlebotomizing system now under consideration. Colonel Warrington one day seriously represented to the bashaw how his functionaries robbed him, and took the liberty of mentioning the name of one person. "Yes, yes," observed the bashaw, "I know all about him; I don't want to catch him yet; he's not fat enough. When he has gorged a little more, I'll have his head off."

      The Emperor of Morocco, however, usually treats his bashaws of the coast with greater consideration than those of the interior cities, the former being more in contact with Europeans, his Highness not wishing his reputation to suffer in the eyes of Christians.

CHAPTER III.

       Table of Contents

      The Posada.—Ingles and Benoliel.—Amulets for successful parturition.—Visits of a Moorish Taleb and a Berber.—Three Sundays during a week in Barbary.—M. Rey's account of the Empire of Morocco.—The Government Auctioneer gives an account of Slavery and the Slave Trade in Morocco.—Benoliel as English Cicerone.—Departure from Tangier to Gibraltar.—How I lost my fine green broadcloth.—Mr. Frenerry's opinion of Maroquine Affairs.

      I took up my stay at the "English Hotel" (posada Ingles), kept by Benoliel, a Morocco Jew, who spoke tolerable English. A Jerusalemitish rabbi came in one day to write charms for his wife, she being near her confinement. The superstition of charms and other cognate matters, are shared alike by all the native inhabitants of Barbary. It often happens that a Marabout shrine will be visited by Moor and Jew, each investing the departed saint with his own peculiar sanctity. So contagious is this species of superstition, that Romish Christians, long resident in Barbary, assisted by the inventive monks, at last discover the Moorish or Jewish to be a Christian saint. The Jewesses brought our Oriental rabbi, declaring him to know everything, and that his garments smelt of the Holy City. Benoliel, or Ben, as the English called him, protested to me that he did not believe in charms; he only allowed the rabbi to write them to please the women. But I have found, during my travels in the Mediterranean, many persons of education, who pretended they did not believe this or that superstition of their church, whilst they were at heart great cowards, having no courage to reject a popular falsehood, and quite as superstitious as those who never doubt the excrescent dogmas or traditionary fables of their religion. The paper amulets, however, operated favourably on Mrs. Benoliel. She was delivered of a fine child; and received the congratulations of her neighbours. The child was named Sultana; [9] and the people were all as merry as if a princess had been born in Israel.

      I received a visit from a Moorish taleb, to whom I read some portions of my journal, as also the Arabic Testament:

      Taleb.—"The English read Arabic because they are the friends of Mussulmans. For this reason, God gives them wit to understand the language of the Koran."

      Traveller.—"We wish to study all languages, and to know all people."

      Taleb.—"Now, as you have become so wise in our country, and read Arabic, where next are you going? Why not be quiet and return home, and live a marabout? Where next are you going?"

      In this strain the Taleb continued lecturing me, until he was interrupted by a Berber of Rif.

      The Rifian.—"Christian, Engleez, come to our mountains. I will conduct you to the Emir, on whom is the blessing of God. Come to the Emir, come."

      Traveller.—"No, I've nothing to do with war."

      The Rifian.—"Ah! ah! ah! I know you are a necromancer. Cannot you tell me where money is buried? I want money very bad. Give me a peseta."

      Traveller.—"Not I. I am going to see your Emperor."

      The Rifian.—"Ah! ah! ah! that is right; give him plenty of money. Muley Abd Errahman hoards up money always. If you give him plenty of money, you will be placed on a horse and ride by his side."

      The inhabitants of Barbary all bury their money. The secret is confided to a single person, who often is taken ill, and dies before he can discover the hiding place to his surviving relatives. Millions of dollars are lost in this way. The people, conscious of their secret practice, are always on the scent for concealed treasures.

      One Friday, some Jews asked the governor of the custom-house to grant them their clearance-papers, because they were, early on the Sunday following, to depart for Gibraltar. The governor said, "Come to-morrow." "No," replied the Jews, "we cannot, it's our feast." "Well," returned the governor, "you Jews have your feasts, the Christians have theirs, and we Mussulmen will have СКАЧАТЬ