Journal of a tour in Marocco and the Great Atlas

by Joseph Dalton Hooker; John Ball

Approach to the City of Marocco — Pleasant encounter — Halt in an olive garden — Interior of the city — Difficulty as to lodging — Governor unfriendly — Camp in the great square — Negotiations with the Viceroy — Successful result — Palace of Ben Dreis — Diplomatic difficulties — Gardens of Marocco — Interview with El Graoui.

After vainly waiting nearly two hours for the return of our soldier, we determined to push on towards the city of Marocco, though somewhat uncertain what the character of our reception might be. This was not merely a matter affecting our personal comfort during our short stay, but was certain to have an important effect on the success of our subsequent journey, and it was a most fortunate circumstance that Hooker’s long experience in contending with the jealousies and suspicions of the native authorities in Nepal and the border States of North-eastern India, and his thorough knowledge of the character of people, who, though far removed, very much resemble the Moors in their ideas and maxims of policy, had prepared him to deal with them successfully. We had gained the first essential condition for exploring the unknown valleys of the Great Atlas, by obtaining the consent of the Sultan; but it was impossible to guess the precise tenor of the orders forwarded by him to the local authorities, and, whatever these might be, the ultimate result would largely depend on the good or ill faith of the latter in carrying them into effect. The person whose favourable dispositions it was chiefly important to secure was El Graoui, who exercises under the Sultan a wide authority as Governor of nearly all the tribes of the Great Atlas that recognise the imperial authority, extending over a considerable portion of the country at the foot of the mountains inhabited by a Shelluh population. El Graoui, as we knew, lived in the city of Marocco, but outside his own jurisdiction. The Governor of the city and its immediate neighbourhood was Ben Daoud, a man notorious for his dislike to strangers and especially to Christians, and it was to him that we had to look for our reception, on our arrival.

From whatever side it be approached the city of Marocco presents an imposing appearance. The western side presented an outline about a mile and a half in length. Massive walls, some thirty feet in height, with square towers at intervals of about 120 yards, completely enclose it, and on two sides at least it is girdled by a wide belt of gardens in which the date-palm, olive, and fig are the most conspicuous trees. Here, as elsewhere, the date-palm flourishes in a sandy soil where the roots plunge into a more compact subsoil kept moist by infiltration. On the north-west side the palm groves, which we passed on our left, are so close and continuous as to give the effect of a forest, while along our route they alternated with other cultivated trees. The effect of the scene as we approached was peculiar and new. The luxuriance of the vegetation that at intervals screened from view the great range of the Atlas, the majestic old olive trees, the rough trunks of the tall palms on which stood many a motionless chameleon; the walls and towers of the great city seen at intervals as we wound among the gardens and groves, combined to form a striking and highly picturesque scene. It was near 4 o’clock when, as we were drawing near the walls, we were startled by the sudden appearance of a party of well-mounted Moors in flowing haïks, whose horses leaped in succession through a gap in an adjoining fence and advanced to meet us. Our surprise was increased when the foremost of the party greeted us in English with a friendly welcome. This gentleman, whose outward appearance was quite undistinguishable from that of his companions, was Mr. Hunot, brother of the British Vice-Consul at Saffi, and representative at Marocco, of the house of Messrs. Perry & Co., of Liverpool. His companions, grave and courteous-looking Moors of considerable local influence, were Sidi Mohammed Hassanowe [1] and Sidi Boubikir, with two or three more of less note. We were invited into an adjoining garden, where carpets were spread under large olive trees, and a refection in the Moorish style, consisting of green tea, cakes of wheaten flour and kabobs, was speedily prepared.

Mr. Hunot had spent several months in the city, and in the absence of M. Lambert, a French merchant, who has lived there for many years, was the only European resident. Although his thorough familiarity with the language, customs, and ideas of the natives made his position less difficult, he found it practically so irksome that he was then on the point of returning to Saffi, his ordinary residence; and we owe it to his kind desire to assist us during this critical period of our journey that he postponed his departure for a day. The time passed very pleasantly, and we listened with satisfaction to the opinion expressed by our hosts that no obstacles would be interposed to our intended journey in the Atlas; when the first sign of rocks ahead was disclosed on the return of the messenger despatched to ascertain what sort of lodging had been prepared for us. When the messenger acknowledged that a very small house with but two rooms had been provided, it became clear that, so far as the city authorities were concerned, there was no disposition to show us much courtesy. Hooker at once sent back a message to the Governor, that we should require a much larger house, or else an enclosed garden in which to pitch our tents. After about half-an-hour’s delay, the messenger again appeared, saying that a much larger house, with four rooms, and more adjoining if required, was ready to receive us. Hereupon we resolved to enter the city, and in company with our new friends, whose ample haïks picturesquely draped must have contrasted favourably with the ugly jellabias that we wore over our European dress, we defiled in a long cavalcade, followed by the mules, camels, and donkeys of our train, through the gardens that on this side approach close to the city walls.

Before the gate we found an officer, evidently of inferior position, with some ten or twelve ragged fellows on foot, armed with rusty matchlocks, posted there to receive us, and to conduct us to our quarters; and with this sorry escort, we made our entry into Marocco. It is impossible by any language to convey the sense of utter disappointment and disgust which overpowered us on our first arrival; and though these feelings soon became subordinate to others connected with our personal position, they are those which predominate in our subsequent recollections.

After passing the gateway we had before us a wide road, with a lofty mud wall on one side and a lower mud wall on the other. The high wall on the right forms part of the enclosure of the Sultan’s palace; over that on the left branches of shrubs or trees appeared, showing that gardens or orchards lay behind. On either side of the road rose accumulations of refuse and filth that looked as if they might have been the growth of centuries, and the farther we went the greater became the piles of abomination, until it seemed as if these would block up the passage. We had passed a fine Moorish arch of wide span, that forms the chief entrance to the palace enclosure, and following this as it makes a sharp turn to the right, there were still no signs of dwellings. The mud walls on either side, on which many storks built their nests, were often in a ruinous state; and here and there it seemed as if people had burrowed beneath so as to make something between a den and a hovel. At length we turned into a sort of lane, and soon emerged into what appears to be one of the main streets. Hitherto we had met very few passers-by; but we now found ourselves in a rather crowded thoroughfare, encountering a good many men on horseback, and a large number of foot passengers, many of them veiled women. The street displayed nothing but mud walls, about twenty feet in height, without a single window, but with openings at frequent intervals leading into short and narrow passages or lanes. The behaviour of the people as we passed was singular. Some of them cast scowling looks at us and muttered words, certainly not of welcome, which may very likely have included some unflattering references to our grandmothers; but the great majority went by without seeming to heed us in the least, as though European costume, which had probably not been seen within the walls since M. Beaumier’s visit in February, 1868, were a familiar sight calling for no remark.

At length the head of our escort turned suddenly into one of the narrow lanes, barely wide enough to let a laden camel pass; we followed and, after passing the entrances of five or six other houses, reached a low door at the end of the lane. Stooping through the mean entrance and a short passage, we found a small open court, about fifteen feet square, on each side of which was a narrow room, receiving no light except from the court. A very brief inspection showed that the whole place was swarming with insects of every kind; and as Hooker turned round to express his opinion and his intentions, it was found that the officer with his rabble escort had decamped the moment he saw us safe into the house, thinking no doubt that we had thus no option but to remain there. When Hooker announced in very decisive terms his resolution not to sleep in such a house, Mr. Hunot and our new Moorish friends, foreseeing a row between us and the Governor, urged that we should put up with the house for that night, and on the following morning negotiate for a more suitable dwelling. As we were holding council together as to what should be done, a number of men appeared on the scene, each bearing one of the customary large beehive covered dishes, as a mona for our evening meal. They were instantly ordered to carry their dishes back to Ben Daoud, and inform him that we refused to stop in that house. They said they could not take away the food, as their orders were to leave it for us; but on the order being repeated in more imperative tones, they departed, most likely settling the difficulty by appropriating the mona between themselves and their friends. At this point Hooker’s knowledge of the Oriental character was conspicuously shown. If it be often true in the West that people are taken at their own valuation of themselves, this becomes an invariable rule among Eastern people. It was absolutely necessary for our eventual success that it should be understood that we were persons travelling by the express authority of our own Government, and entitled to all respect from the officers of the Moorish Sultan, however high their position might be. Were we to allow ourselves to be treated as mere private persons recommended to their good offices, there was an end to all hope of breaking down the barriers by which national prejudice and ancient tradition had closed the interior of the country against the intrusion of strangers. Had we even given way for a single day, the ingenuity of the natives would have found abundant pretexts for evading our demands; it was much easier to refuse the proffered lodging at once than to give a good reason why we could not spend a second night in a house where we had passed the first.

A messenger was despatched to Ben Daoud. ‘Tell the Governor,’ said Hooker, ‘that my Sultana gives me a large house with a garden to live in; hospitality would require that the Governor of Marocco should provide me—the guest of his Sultan—with a better house; but, in any case, I shall not live in a worse one.’ In a short time the messenger returned with the answer: ‘The Governor has no better house to give the Christians; but Marocco is large, and they are welcome to provide for themselves!’ It was then immediately decided to camp out for the night; and the better to mark our sense of the reception given us, it was at first proposed to pitch our tents outside the walls. From this, however, we were dissuaded. In such a position, apparently deprived of the protection of the local authorities, we should certainly, it was said, be attacked by robbers, from whom our Mogador escort might not prove a secure defence. It was finally decided that our best course would be to encamp in the great open space beside the chief mosque and tower of the Koutoubia. Our men had been ordered not to unload the baggage, so we were immediately under way. In the twilight the filth and abjectness of all that met the eye were not so glaringly prominent as before; but as we rode through more streets and lanes and open spaces, we saw no single building of the slightest pretension, until we entered the great square, at the farther end of which is the tower of the Koutoubia, the solitary specimen of architecture of which the ancient capital can boast.

The daylight was fading fast, but enough remained to show that the spot of our encampment was anything but inviting. Go where we would the ground was covered with refuse of every kind, full of scorpion holes, and swarming with insects, of which the most abundant and unsightly, though the least mischievous, were very large black Coleoptera, distant relatives of our European cockroaches, and the whole space was bordered by a ditch or open drain that reeked with foul exhalations. Meanwhile, we had sent the captain of our escort with a message to Muley Hassan, the Viceroy, informing him of our resolution to encamp in our own tents, until a suitable house had been provided for us. A civil answer was returned, expressing a wish that we should not camp out, and saying that he had sent orders to Ben Daoud immediately to provide us a suitable residence. Soon after came a polite message from El Graoui, expressing his regret that we had not been lodged to our satisfaction, and forwarding a letter that he had addressed to Ben Daoud on the subject. Nearly an hour passed, when at last a final answer came from Ben Daoud, saying that it was then too late to comply with our wishes, but that on the following morning we should have a good house with a garden.

During all this time we had remained grimly sitting on horseback, no way anxious, until it should be quite necessary, to commit ourselves for the night to the unpleasant accompaniments that surrounded us; but there was no longer any choice, and the order was given to pitch the large tent and unload the baggage.