It is rather from the Spaniards that we have to expect trouble and ferment. They have been playing the fool at Ceuta, and now seek for satisfaction, which would humiliate the new Sultan, and then perhaps cause him, if he concedes, to totter upon his throne before he has even taken a firm seat thereon.
‘My friends the hunters,’ alluded to in this letter, were, it may be explained, villagers from outlying hamlets in the Tangier district. They were strongly attached to Mr. Hay as a brother sportsman and friend, and are frequently mentioned in his stories and in his little book on Western Barbary. The bond lasted throughout his life, though one generation of hunters passed away during his long residence in Morocco.
Writing again to his wife on November 13, he says:—
Green and Reade[39] live with me, and are very useful and attentive; but I am bored with this bachelor’s life and miss my wife and my dear children.
All well so far.
Government has again approved of all I have done and am doing.
When war begins you will probably see me; but be assured I shall not be in Tangier when bombardment takes place. I shall either be on board a ship or safe inland amongst my hunters on ‘Mount Washington[40].’ No imprudence shall I be guilty of, for your sake. As to the Moors, they are ready to do anything for me. I will not trust the Spaniards, nor go amongst the ‘Kabail.’
Sultan’s brother (Mulai Abbas, in command of the troops) and I are good friends.
Tangier is deserted. Nothing but armed men: not a woman, not a child.
Difficulty in getting anything.