A most important step towards extending our knowledge of the entire empire of Marocco was made in 1848, when the French War Department published the map compiled by Captain Beaudouin. Whatever errors it may contain—and these were unavoidably numerous—this must be regarded as a monument of intelligence and industry. Recognising the fact that the greater part of the territory is likely long to remain inaccessible to Europeans, the author applied himself to obtaining information from natives who were personally acquainted with various portions of the country. Hundreds of such informants, as we were assured, were separately examined by Captain Beaudouin; the information supplied by each was laid down on a skeleton map; and by the careful comparison of the separate materials the general map was compiled.
Without noticing minor errors, which are, of course, inevitable in such a work, the most serious objection to be made to this map is that the orography is exhibited in a fashion primâ facie improbable, and which has been to a great extent negatived by subsequent evidence. The main range of the Southern Atlas is represented as a nearly straight wall, over 400 miles in length, with few and short diverging ridges, and, parallel to this on the south side, another equally straight and narrow ridge is made to stretch for nearly 300 miles. From near the eastern extremity of the main range two other straight ridges are shown, diverging abruptly at an acute angle, and enclosing a trench-like valley that extends north-west for fully 120 miles. If this were even approximately correct, we should be led to conclude that the structure of the Great Atlas is quite unlike that of any other known mountain region. The tendency of mountain ranges to follow a uniform general direction is always modified by the numerous secondary causes that have helped to fashion the earth’s surface.
The first recent traveller who succeeded in penetrating some considerable portions of the Marocco territory was M. Gerhard Rohlfs. Assuming the garb and professing the faith of a Mussulman, he traversed many districts where no Christian dare present himself; but the care necessary to prevent his real character from becoming known imposed severe restrictions on M. Rohlfs. Produced under conditions where it was impossible to be seen taking notes or using any scientific instrument, it is not surprising that the narrative of his adventurous journey is extremely meagre; but even for the little that he is told about a region so little known the reader is thankful. The chief geographical results of these journeys were embodied in the map annexed to G. Rohlfs’ first work[10] by the eminent geographer, M. Petermann. The scale of that map is small and admits of little detail; but, so far as regards the mountain country, I am disposed to think that the direct evidence, supplemented in some points by native report, requires us to depart more widely from the orographic features of Beaudouin’s map than M. Petermann has thought it fit to do.
In the map accompanying this volume I have ventured, in addition to the changes for which I had direct authority, to introduce a few others, avowedly conjectural, which must await further exploration before they can be either adopted or condemned. It is difficult to believe that in an age when the barriers that have closed the other least known regions of the earth are successively removed, Marocco, so close to Europe and so attractive, can alone resist the progress of modern exploration.[11]
FOOTNOTES:
[1]The phrase used is κατῳκίσαμεν πόλεις πρὸς τῇ θαλάττῃ καλουμένας Καριχόν τε Γύττην καὶ Ἄκραν καὶ Μέλιτταν καὶ Ἄραμβυν. When the author speaks of Thymiaterium, founded by Hanno in this expedition, he says, ἐκτίσαμεν πρώτην πόλιν.
[2]See Pliny, V. 1, § 8. His account is vague and confused, and the distances not to be reconciled with those given by him elsewhere.
[3]Not content with the indication afforded by the identity of the two terminal syllables in each name, C. Müller conjectures that the ancient name of the promontory near Agadir was Râs adir, Râs being the common Arabic designation for a headland. He apparently supposes that the natives spoke Arabic in the time of Polybius. Even now none of the headlands on this coast have the designation Râs.
[4]I am indebted for information as to several passages in Pliny’s writings to my friend, Mr. E. Bunbury, who will doubtless throw further light on the subject in an important work, ‘An Historical View of Ancient Geography’ which he is preparing for publication.
[5]‘Indigenæ tamen tradunt in ora ab Sala CL m. p. flumen Asanam, marino haustu sed portu spectabile: mox amnem quem vocant Fut: ab eo ad Dyrin (hoc enim Atlanti nomen esse eorum lingua convenit) CC m. p., interveniente flumine cui nomen est Vior. Ibi fama exstare circa vestigia habitati quondam soli vinearum palmetorumque reliquias.’