Mr. Hay combated the superstitious objections of the Moors to selling food stuffs to the Nazarenes by reminding the Sultan that his subjects were clothed in materials manufactured by Christians, his soldiers armed and their horses shod with weapons and shoes made of European iron, and declared that persons who argued in such a sense were ‘rebels against God,’ since He had not denied the Christian and the Jew any privileges granted by Him to the Moslem.
Finally Mr. Hay suggested that it would be desirable that the advantages of such a Convention should be shared by other Powers in common with Great Britain, and ventured to warn the Sultan that a Treaty of Commerce made in time of peace by a friendly Power would be preferable to the risk of having to make such a Treaty at a more critical moment, when the opportunity might arise for one of the Powers to enforce its demands; for assuredly the present Convention would not be renewed under its old conditions.
It was to press upon the Moorish Government the advisability of a Commercial Convention on the lines above indicated, that, in 1855, by the direction of the British Government, Mr. Hay left Tangier for Marákesh. The mission set out in March, 1855. On his way Mr. Hay everywhere met with a courteous reception. Azamor, however, a town contiguous to Rabát, proved an exception. There he experienced very different treatment.
Kaid Ben Tahir, he writes, Governor of Azamor—a great fanatic—hated the sight of Europeans, but in pursuance of express orders received from the Sultan, came out with the chief officials of Azamor and some troops to meet me some distance from the town and conducted me to our camp.
The following day, according to etiquette, I called on the Kaid at his residence. As I entered the porch, the ‘m’haznía’ (military guards), about forty in number—instead of being drawn up standing in line to receive me—were squatting on the ground, forming a double rank, reaching close to the kiosk in which the Governor was seated, thus leaving only a narrow passage for me to pass through. Some even had their legs sprawled out in my way. These I trod upon heavily, or kicked aside, much to their dismay.
The Governor, who was seated, counting the beads of a rosary, on a small divan, remained seated as I approached, without attempting to rise or salute me; neither had he any chair or other resting-place to offer me, and merely held out his hand saying ‘You are welcome.’ Taking his hand with a firm grip I lifted him gently from his divan and said, ‘I am glad to see you.’ When I got his astonished Excellency well on his legs, I wheeled him round suddenly and dropped on the middle of the divan where he had been seated, leaving him standing.
Kaid Ben Tahir looked bewildered, gazed first at me and then at his guards, and I think was still meditating whether to bolt or to call his scowling attendants to seize and bastinado me, when I addressed him—‘How thoughtful and attentive of you to have prepared this comfortable divan for me to sit upon without providing for yourself a chair or even a stool where you could sit to entertain me.’
He murmured, ‘The divan is my seat.’
‘Ah!’ I said, ‘So you intended to remain seated whilst the Representative of the greatest Sovereign in the world, accredited to your Lord the Sultan as Envoy, came to call on you! How do you like the position in which you desired to place me? I shall report your conduct to the Sultan, as also the behaviour of your guards, for I consider your and their conduct a marked insult.’
Kaid Ben Tahir faltered out, ‘I have erred through ignorance. You are the first European Representative whom I have received and I never offer a seat to Moorish officials who call upon me—I ask your pardon.’