During the interval we had been much struck by the demeanour of the people, who had from time to time passed by as we stood grouped together in this most public place of the city. Whether in obedience to orders, or from a spontaneous desire to display their utter indifference as to the doings of the infidels, no one paid the slightest attention, or even turned a head to notice us or our proceedings. Even the very boys engaged in some rough play when we first arrived on the square showed the same ostentatious disregard—in striking contrast to the eager curiosity of the Arab children in Algeria and the East, who will sit for hours together watching every movement of European travellers. By this time, however, the night had closed in, and the great square was silent and dark before our large tent was pitched and the baggage brought under cover.
Soon after there appeared a train of men bearing dishes—the evening mona—along with twenty-four soldiers sent by El Graoui to guard our camp during the night, and about half-past 9 we were able to get the rather long delayed evening meal and discuss our further prospects and proceedings. While thus engaged the sound of angry voices outside the tent interrupted conversation; it was evident that a violent altercation was going on, in which many voices took part. When all was again quiet, we ascertained the cause of the row. Ten soldiers sent by Ben Daoud as a guard for the night had come to take their places round the camp, when they found the ground already occupied. El Graoui’s men warned them off, telling them they had no business there, and when the others insisted on remaining to carry out their master’s orders the first comers threatened to thrash them if they did not immediately depart. Peace was re-established when Ben Daoud’s men retired to the farther end of the square behind the great mosque.
When we came to talk over the varied experiences of the day, we first of all agreed that, old travellers as we all were, and familiar with the squalor of Oriental cities, we none of us had ever known, or even imagined, the existence of a large town so expressive of human degradation, so utterly foul and repulsive, as this wherein we found ourselves. Of all the places commonly visited by travellers Jerusalem is perhaps that which at the first moment approaches nearest to the same impression; but, not to speak of the numerous important buildings and the associations connected with them, nor yet of the modern structures that have arisen during the last half-century, the poorest quarters of Jerusalem are far from rivalling the universal squalor and hideousness of all that meets the eye in Marocco. A ruinous house, with windows closed by weather-beaten rickety lattice-work, is not a beautiful object, but it may be sometimes picturesque, and, at the worst, is far better than a dead wall of crumbling mud, such as here meets the eye on every side. It would seem as if the most miserable suburbs of all the other towns of North Africa and Western Asia had been collected together and enclosed within a lofty wall, so that seen from without the whole might be palmed off on mankind as the effigy of a great city.
On deliberating over the events of the evening in relation to our own future prospects, we found reason to think that what had happened did not necessarily bode ill for the objects of our expedition. A fierce rivalry, as we knew, already existed between El Graoui and Ben Daoud, men whose power and influence in the State were supposed to be of equal weight. Whether to gratify his own feelings, or because he so understood the intentions of the Sultan, Ben Daoud had showed himself unfriendly, while El Graoui had clearly declared himself on our side. But as Ben Daoud had no authority whatever in the Atlas valleys, his enmity could do us no real harm; while El Graoui, whose opposition alone was to be feared, might easily be carried farther than he would have otherwise gone on our behalf for the mere pleasure of thereby spiting his rival. In this way our visit came to play a certain part in the interior politics of Marocco, and the serio-comic development of the story acquires a share of interest from the light it throws on native character.
Some time after midnight, after finishing our customary task in laying out our collections of the day, which had been much smaller than usual, we sallied out to view the surrounding scene. The moon stood high in the cloudless sky, wherein there was so little vapour that the stars seemed scarcely dimmed by her brilliancy. The great tower, stark against the black vault, appeared gigantic in its proportions as it looked down on the strange scene below. The noises of the city—even the howling of the dogs—were for the moment completely stilled; our camels, horses, mules, and asses lay resting after their day’s work, and amongst them the sleeping figures of our men, wrapped up in white haïks or jellabias, looked weird and ghostly in the moonlight. The distinctness with which we heard the occasional whispers of the guards around our camp served only to make the deep silence of the night the more impressive.
On this night the advantages of a tent of what is known as the Alpine Club pattern, where the floor is made of canvas continuous with the sides, and the entrance is closed by a flap rising about a foot from the ground, were shown in a striking way. In the great tent, where the ground underfoot was pierced with scorpion holes and swarming with insects, Hooker and Maw did not venture to undress, and had to pass the night perched upon the baggage, while Ball was able to spread his mattress regardless of the creatures that might be moving about under the canvas floor. When his tent was struck next morning the ground underneath was absolutely covered with a continuous mass of creeping things, yet not a single insect entered the tent.
When we all rose betimes on the morning of the 4th, we felt that this must be a decisive day in our contest with the Moorish authorities. At an early hour Hooker despatched two messengers, one to the Viceroy, requesting an interview, the other to Mr. Hunot, begging him to use his local knowledge and influence to make sure that the request should reach the Viceroy. Soon after arrived a message from Ben Daoud, saying that we were at liberty to pitch our tents in an adjoining garden. If that offer had been made on our first arrival, it is most likely that it would have been accepted; but, as it was now clear that Ben Daoud was intent on yielding as little as possible, Hooker wisely resolved to insist on the demand which he had made on the previous evening, and returned an answer in nearly the same terms as before.
At 8 A.M. a morning meal of wheaten cakes and milk came from El Graoui, and throughout that and the following days he continued to supply our wants and those of our followers on the most liberal scale. Besides a light breakfast, three copious meals with meat and vegetables cooked in the most approved style, accompanied by dates and oranges, were regularly furnished; and the addition of a mule-load of oranges that came later in the day furnished in abundance the most acceptable luxury that nature affords in this region.
It was clear that the question debated among the Marocco authorities as to the best way of dealing with the troublesome Christian visitors was considered a rather knotty one, for fully two hours elapsed before our Mogador kaïd returned with the Viceroy’s answer. We were welcome to Marocco, he said, and he had ordered the palace of Ben Dreis, with the adjoining garden, to be prepared for our reception. That building belonged, it was added, to his father, the Sultan, and not to the Governor of Marocco, so that we should consider the use of it as a mark of the personal favour and friendship of the Sultan. The request for an interview was evaded, probably to avoid any further demands that may have been apprehended; but we had obtained a complete victory, and had nothing more to ask so far as our stay in Marocco was concerned.
Although the sequel of the story was not unfolded till a day or two later, it may as well be here given. Si Boubikir, one of our Moorish friends who had interested himself on our behalf, was sent for by the Viceroy, and at the same time Ben Daoud was also summoned. The latter was addressed by the Viceroy in the coarsest terms: ‘You dog! you slave! you son of a slave! how have you dared to neglect my father’s orders? Were you not ordered to provide a suitable residence for these English gentlemen?’ With further additions of threats and abuse. On the following day (after we had paid our visit to El Graoui) a person sent by Ben Daoud came to Abraham, our interpreter, to express a hope that we should also pay a visit to the Governor of the city in token of reconciliation. He was to assure us that Ben Daoud was no way to blame for anything that had happened, as he had acted throughout by the express orders of the Viceroy, who had desired him to begin by offering the smaller house, then one somewhat larger, and to leave it to the Viceroy to meet our demands, if we persisted in asking for a house with a garden. It was quite impossible to guess how much or how little truth there might be in this tale, and how far the scene got up before Si Boubikir was a mere comedy; but it is characteristic of the country, that it should not be considered improbable. Hooker decided that it was not expedient to overlook the affronts of which Ben Daoud was either the author or the instrument, and his message was met by a curt refusal.