In Solomon’s Song it appears that the practice of the Jews was for the mother to crown the son on his marriage-day; but the word which we translate crown, conveys also the idea of covering the head, or putting a cap upon it. That some similar usage must have prevailed in ancient Greece, or some rite been introduced amongst the Greeks with Christianity, is shown in the expressions at present in use. Instead of saying “He married such a one,” they say, “He crowned such a one.”
In Servia the bride wears a crown, or rather, a cap of flowers, and she preserves it—not the same flowers,—for a whole year.
The connection of the fillet and the snood, is rendered more probable by that of the Shashia and the Highland bonnet. These are the two kinds, the flat, (liena) and the point (viruch). The latter has been nicknamed “Glengarry.” It owes its peculiarity to the slit; something very like it may be seen in the tombs of Egypt. The flat one has now generally got the addition of a chequered border, but that variation was introduced by the Regent Murray. It is, however, still worn without the border, and then it is a variety of the Shashia. It has preserved the two original colours, though it has exchanged them, the bonnet being blue, and the tassel red. Amongst the Basques it may be still seen red with a tassel blue.
On my return home, I found the colonel of the regular troops, who had come to pay me a visit. He was pacing the cancellaria; he was smoking a cigar, and he was spitting on the floor:—I recoiled from the triple abomination. I am perfectly aware that an Englishman will see nothing extraordinary in the former two, as they would not be so in himself, nor an American in the third. I supposed he must be a renegade, but he was only an Algerian who had lived some time at Gibraltar. Having served at Constantinople, he opened at once his heart to me, and poured forth complaints against the Moors. No one had shown him civility, and he could not even get a bath (there are no public ones). This unburdening of his mind was followed by a flow of spirits: he sent for his uniform, displayed it, dressed in it, and then sate down to dinner. While seated on a chair at a table, with a tumbler of wine in his raised hand, in walked two attendants of Mustafa Ducaly, bearing the usual dish or tray of kuscoussoo. He was struck mute and motionless; the untouched goblet was replaced on the table, and presently he arose and withdrew.
The uniform which is to displace this ancient and magnificent costume, is a caricature of us, as much as a scandal to the Moors; yet it is paraded as a necessary condition of learning the use of arms. In the last century, the Spanish army, indignant at the introduction of the Prussian discipline, exclaimed, “With the old tactics we raised Charles V. to the throne of Germany, and Philip V. to that of Spain; we put Don Carlos on the throne of Naples, and conquered Parma and Oran:” no doubt the argument was inconclusive. But to tell the Saracens that their costume is unfit for military purposes, was reserved for the genius of the nineteenth century. Shoe-strings at Versailles announced that the revolution was accomplished; a neckcloth sealed the fate of the khans of the Crimea; so button-holes at Rabat seem to presage, not that a barrier is raised in Morocco to the French, but that the sceptre of the Sheriffs is passing away.
Mehemet Ali’s uniform at least followed, while it disfigured, the dress in use. This one is a complete change; the bare leg, the distinctive mark of the Moor, has disappeared. The cap, their own original shashia,—the peaked cap of liberty,—is, for “fashion’s sake,” changed to the round shallow one of Egypt; cuffs and collars, the gracefulness of which so struck Napoleon, when he saw Eastern clothing, are the salient features of this tailoring invasion; which, after desolating Spain, has now fallen upon Morocco. Tertullian, in his letter on the “Toga and the Pallium,” ridicules the Africans of his day, for copying from Italy a dress which the ancestors of those Italians had borrowed from their own: what would he have said now?
The new uniform was of course of all sorts of tints and colours, from chocolate to pink.
FOOTNOTES:
[200] Jamsamia.
[201] Deut. iv. 41-43.