Reassured by the Ambassador, they all put on their slippers. Such is the fact. They are not absolutely obliged to go always with bare feet; but as they must take off their shoes in passing through certain streets, before certain mosques, near certain cube, it becomes the same thing in the end. And this is not the only vexation to which they are subjected, nor the most humiliating one. They cannot bear witness before a judge, and must prostrate themselves on the ground before any tribunal; they cannot possess lands or houses outside of their own quarter; they must not raise their hands against a Mussulman, even in self-defence, except in the case of being assaulted under their own roof; they can only wear dark colors[[6]]; they must carry their dead to the cemetery at a run; they must ask the Sultan’s leave to marry; they must be within their own quarter at sunset; they must pay the Moorish guard who stands sentinel at the gates of the Mellà; and they must present rich gifts to the Sultan on the four great festivals of Islamism, and on every occasion of birth or matrimony in the imperial family. Their condition was still worse before the time of Sultan Abd-er-Rhaman, who at least prevented their blood from being shed. Even if they would, the sultans could not much ameliorate their condition, without exposing this unfortunate people to an even worse fate than the horrible slavery they now endure, so fanatical and ferocious is the hatred of the Moors against them. Thus, Sultan Soliman having decreed that they might wear their shoes, so many of them were killed in open day in the streets of Fez that they themselves petitioned the revocation of the decree. Nevertheless, they remain in the country, and being willing to run the risks, they serve as intermediaries between the commerce of Europe and that of Africa; and the government, aware of their importance to the prosperity of the state, opposes an almost insurmountable barrier to emigration, prohibiting the departure of any Jewish woman from Morocco. They serve, they tremble, and grovel in the dust; but they would not give, to acquire the dignity of men and the liberty of citizens, the heaps of gold which they keep hidden in their gloomy habitations.
There are about eight thousand of them living in Fez, divided into synagogues, and directed by rabbis who enjoy high authority.
These poor women showed us a number of large bracelets of chased silver, some rings set with jewels, and some gold ear-rings, which they kept hidden in their bosoms. We asked why they concealed them.
“Nos espantamos de los Moros.” “We are afraid of the Moors,” they said, in a low voice, looking timidly about them. They were suspicious, too, of the soldiers of the Legation.
Among them there were several children, dressed with the same splendor as the women. One of them stood close to her mother, seeming more timid than the rest. The Ambassador asked how old she was. “Twelve years old,” the mother said.
“She will soon be married,” remarked the Ambassador.
“Che!” exclaimed the mother; “she is too old to marry.”
We all thought she was joking. But she repeated, almost astonished at our incredulity, “I speak the truth; look here at this one”—and she pointed to a smaller child. “She will be ten years old in six months, and she has already been married one year.”
The child held down her head. We were still incredulous.
“What can I say?” continued the woman. “If you will not believe my word, do me the honor to come to my house on Saturday, so that we may receive you worthily, and you will see the husband and the witnesses of the marriage.”