“Then I left the Englishman in my tent and I called a mountaineer who was swift of foot and sure, and I told him, ‘Go quickly to the place where my mehalla is camped and tell them to make ready for a long march. Let them be prepared to start as soon as I join them.’ He went, running like a fox, and I returned to Maclean. ‘Shall I ride with you?’ he asked. ‘As you like.’ ‘Yes, it is better that I ride with you. Then I can take your answer to el Guebbas.’ ‘Let us ride, then,’ I said; and we mounted.
“Now at that time I thought he was a traitor, and knew the intentions of the Sultan, and I said to myself, ‘So the strange thing has happened—who would have thought it?—and the hunter has fallen into the snare he made for his prey!’ But it displeased me to ride with him in this way, as if he were my guest. I would have liked to have tied his arms together and bound them to my stirrup and made him run thus, but his men were still with him, and we were not yet in my country.
“We rode in silence, for I was thinking of the future, and I took him by roundabout ways so that the mehalla might have time to prepare. At last he said to me, ‘Where is the farm of your brother?’ ‘We draw near to it.’ ‘When shall we arrive?’ ‘Soon,’ I answered, and pressed my horse, for I saw the grove behind which were encamped my troops.
“‘What is this? What have you done?’ cried Maclean when we rode into the middle of the camp and he saw the force ready to march, the tents packed and each man prepared with his rifle. ‘Here is your answer,’ I said, and read him the letter of Mulai Abdul Aziz.
“El Maclean listened without speaking. Then he protested, ‘I too have been tricked. I knew nothing of this.’ With great sincerity he repeated that he had believed the words of Mulai Abdul Aziz. ‘In any case you are justified,’ he said. ‘I am your prisoner. I will go with you wherever you like.’ So we left that place and went up into the mountains of Ahmas, and I treated the Englishman as a guest.
“The Sultan was very angry that his plans should have been discovered, for the word of Moslem to Moslem is not lightly betrayed, so he wrote the Kaid of the district where I camped, saying to him, ‘Take all the armies that you will. Take all the money that is in my treasury. The country shall be under your orders, but capture el Raisuli alive or dead.’ Now the Kaid was my cousin, Mulai Sadiq er Raisuli, but he had always been with the Government and I had never seen him. There are many Sherifs Raisuli in the country and all of them have much influence. Mulai wrote to the Sultan and said, ‘I shall need 1,000 horses and 4,000 men to capture Mulai Ahmed in these mountains,’ and the Sultan replied, ‘I will send double that number.’
“Two mehallas came from Fez and one was under the command of my cousin and the other under the uncle of Mulai Abdul Aziz. At that time I was at the Zawia of Sidi Jusuf el Teledi, and with me were fifteen men and Maclean. How can a handful of men fight an army? The tribesman came to me for my advice, and I said to them, ‘Do not waste your ammunition, when the earth is full of it,’ and I showed them the great stones of the mountains.
“There are few ways by which a man may climb into the Ahmas, and all night the mountaineers worked to loosen the rocks above them. In the morning, when the mehalla advanced, it was as if the mountain resented their presence, for whole cliffs fell upon them and many were killed. I sat on a boulder across the wadi, and, with a few followers, watched the rout. My jellaba was white and very clear against the hillside and, when the troops saw me, they said, ‘That is el Raisuli. He has bewitched the mountain, but he shall not leave it,’ and they fired at me many times. My companions cried out, ‘Hide yourself, Sidi—behind these rocks you will be safe, and you can still watch what is happening with comfort.’ But I answered them, ‘Go and take refuge in a safe place, but there is no danger for me.’ I stood up at the edge of the rocks, and the spent bullets, which had not been able to pierce my body, fell out of my clothes and rattled on the ground. When they saw this the people were afraid, for they knew it was a miracle. It was told throughout the country and added to the consternation of our enemies.”
In this way el Raisuli encouraged the superstitious reverence of his people, but, though the trick of the spent bullets was repeated on several occasions, the Sherif is not, and never has been, a charlatan. Convinced that he has the ‘baraka’ and that no man can avert the fate which is ordained for him, he risks his life and his position with the same calmness that an inveterate gambler backs his luck when he feels that it is in. El Raisuli is superlatively ambitious, and astute enough to realise that the smallest details are often important factors in success or failure. Thus he makes use of every artifice to strengthen the position which has been won as much by mental as physical audacity, aided, of course, by an environment unique in this century.
“When it was known that the mehalla of my cousin, Mulai Sadiq, was defeated, terror spread through the army on the other side of the mountain,” continued the Sherif. “In vain the Sultan’s uncle encouraged the troops. They asked, ‘How can we fight against a man whom even the mountains help?’ But my followers were afraid, for they said, ‘We have defeated one army by a trick, but another will not be vanquished in the same way.’ I said to them, ‘Put your faith in Allah, for has he not saved us in the past? I tell you again that no harm will happen to you.’
“Before there was time for any other battle, there came messengers from Fez, telling that the Christians (the French) had landed in Casablanca, and were ordering the immediate return of the mehalla. Thus my people realised that I had spoken the truth. Scarcely had the Sultan’s troops returned to Fez when men came swiftly from Xauen with the news that my cousin had taken refuge there after the defeat of the army. The Ashraf[33] and Sheikhs of the town begged that I would bring an army to their rescue, for the tribe of Ahmas, within whose borders they are, had sworn to burn every house and level the walls to the ground. They said, ‘Your cousin, our master, sits all day on his roof, firing shots from his rifle, but we have not enough weapons to defend the town.’ So I left Maclean with a strong guard and went down from Jusuf el Teledi.
“I took no mehalla with me, but travelled quickly with a few servants, and the tribesmen joined me on the way, so that, when I reached Xauen, I had hundreds at my back. All the people came out to meet me, and the women made their quivering noise as they do for a wedding or the birth of a son. I could hardly pass through the streets, the crowd was so great, and men flung themselves before me so as to kiss my robes as I passed. When I reached the house of the Pasha, the musicians were playing and all the people rejoicing, for they had been saved from the slaughter promised by the Ahmas.
“I asked, ‘Where is my cousin?’ They said, ‘He is still in his house.’ So I sent a messenger to him, asking, ‘Why do you not come to bid me welcome, for you are of my family?’ and he replied by some of his slaves, ‘I would not come with all the people, for I am older than you, and it is not good that a greybeard should disturb itself for youth, but if you will receive me alone, I will come to you at midnight, when the town is quiet.’ I answered, ‘My house is yours, and you are welcome at any hour.’ So he came when it was dark, and I made him sit in the place of honour. Then I said to him, ‘It was you who commanded the army against me?’ ‘That is the truth. I was the servant of the Government, and it was my duty to obey the orders of my master, the Sultan.’ ‘It was you who would have taken me a prisoner, so that I should have died in some foul dungeon?’ ‘Yes, it was my intention to take you by the neck and put chains upon you and carry you to Fez, but this was not permitted by the goodness of Allah.’ ‘Now that you are here with me, in my power, do you acknowledge that you are beaten?’ ‘Yes. Allah has so willed it. Your foot is on my neck.’ ‘Then there shall be peace between us, for it is not good that there be war among the members of one family.’ ‘As you will.’ ‘I will make you my Khalifa here and you shall govern for me.’ ‘By Allah, I will not stay here, for, seeing me defeated and humiliated, the people of this town have behaved badly to me and have been unwilling even to salute me in the street.’
“Upon hearing this I called in the great men of the town and said to them, ‘Do you know this man?’ Seeing my cousin seated on my right in the place of honour, they were afraid and began protesting, ‘We know him well. He is our Faqih, our dear Kaid and your honoured cousin.’ ‘You lie,’ cried Mulai Sadiq in great anger. ‘Because you see me prosperous, you think to wash out all your faults and negligences!’ but I interrupted him. ‘In future, their lives are in your hands, for you will be their Governor on my behalf,’ and so it was arranged.” From that moment, apparently, the cousins have been the closest allies, and Mulai Sadiq has held many important posts in the Governorates of the Sherif.
“Maclean was my prisoner for many months,” continued el Raisuli. “It was spring when he came with me to the mountains, but it was winter when he left. Your Government was slow to pay, and there was no money in the treasury of the Sultan. It was a long way to Tetuan and few dared act as messengers. Maclean was my friend and, to begin with, we hunted together and I sent to the city for those curious pipes like cushions full of air, which his people play. They make more noise than our music, and even the blacks cannot sing against them.
“There was much writing between the Government and myself, and each tried to trick the other. I said I would send them the head of Maclean, which I could not do because he had come with me willingly, as my guest. They threatened to send British troops to rescue him. Allah! but it is a long way to Jebel Ahmas, so neither of us believed the other. I was tired of war and I wanted to rebuild my houses which had been destroyed, so I demanded in ransom for Maclean the protection of England and twenty-five thousand of your pounds. It was a small sum for a great nation to pay, for it is known that your wealth cannot be counted, but there were many difficulties, and Maclean would not help me. After a while we were no longer friends about this matter, thinking the same thoughts, and I said to him, ‘You know the ways of your Government. Write now a letter that will move them.’ But he refused, so I said, ‘By Allah, it shall be written before you sleep.’ Then he was angry and left me, so I sent for the drummers, who beat on great instruments of hide, and stationed them outside his door and ordered them to play.
“All that night and the next day they made a great noise, and then I sent for Maclean and said to him, ‘Without sleep a man can do nothing, and it is not easy to sleep beside that music.’ He was wild in his speech and said, ‘Kill me! and let us have done with this trickery.’ But I answered, ‘It is not the custom of Arabs to kill a guest. Your life is safe. Go back and think whether you will write again to your government.’ All night the drums continued, and in the morning I sent men to talk to Maclean, but he would not answer them. His head drooped before them and his eyes were red. I was afraid even the drums would not keep him awake, so I added to the musicians, men who clashed the cymbals, and instructed them to make much noise. Truly I disliked it myself, so I went away to avoid it. The third day Maclean said to me, ‘My head bursts. I hear nothing,’ but by his eyes I knew he lied, and all his muscles twitched as you see those of a hare when its leg is broken.
“It was a good idea, that of the drums, for a host is obliged to provide music and entertainment for his guest and, at the same time, no man can bear so great a noise and sleep. I left the affair in the hands of a Wakil[34] whose invention was very great. He proved himself a master of noise, till all the men in the house held their ears and ran. After five days Maclean gave in, as he might have done before, for what harm was there in writing a letter?—but he was obstinate, like all men of great courage. A slave brought him paper and ink, but, when the drums stopped, he looked round as if he saw jinns, and his head fell forward on the couch, and he slept. The Wakil shook him by the shoulders, even lifted him up on to his feet, but without effect. So I let him sleep, because he was my guest.
“When he woke, after many hours, he wrote the letter, and perhaps he told about the drums, for the Government offered a great sum, which I agreed to accept, but there was not so much money in any treasury of Mulai Abdul Aziz and there was no one who dared bring it to me. The Sultan paid £10,000 to the English Minister at Tangier, and said, ‘Treat with Mulai Ahmed and make him accept the rest in instalments.’
“I would not leave the mountains, for fear of a trap, so still messengers came and went. At last Harris, the Englishman of whom I spoke, and another whose name I have forgotten, but he was a friend of el Menebbhe’s, came out to meet me, at a village near Tangier. I had several thousand men with me and the whole country was guarded. Not even a mehalla of the Sultan could have done me any harm. We had a conference and many things were explained. It was agreed that, in future, the Sultan should have no authority over me and that I should be under the protection of your Government. It was arranged also that the money should be handed over at night, in the house of the English Consul at Tangier, in exchange for Maclean, whom the Sherif of Wazzan went to fetch. Had it been an Arab who made the suggestion I would not have accepted it, for always I shall remember that other time when I went down to Tangier believing in the word of a friend. But in this manner the affair was settled.”
The Sherif seemed to be meditating on some subject. At last he spoke, looking at me directly. “My prisoners have always been my friends,” he said. “I did not take them for any grudge against themselves, but because it was necessary that I should have some hostage to treat with the Governments who abused my people. I made them my advocates, and it was as if el Raisuli was at the mercy of his prisoners, saying to them, ‘Explain this thing, for I am in your hands, and you are my only means of reaching the ears of the Maghsen and attaining the justice of my desires.’”
CHAPTER X
DEALINGS WITH MULAI HAFID
After the successful termination of this episode, el Raisuli could have lived in peace and waxed rich and prosperous, without fear of retribution, for it would have been difficult to have haled so peculiar a type of British subject before the tribunal at Tangier; but, by this time, the Sherif had learned much of European politics. He understood that foreign Powers would soon intervene in Morocco, and the blend of religious fervour and ambition in his nature crystallised into a somewhat egotistic form of patriotism.
“All my life I have fought for the freedom of my people,” said the Sherif, “and I had no hairs on my face when I first took up a gun on their behalf. He who has shaped men cannot be content with building houses out of dead bricks and plaster. I went to Azeila and brought my family there, for I had the intention of constructing a great kasbah, but news came to me that Mulai Hafid had proclaimed himself Sultan at Marakesh. His brother, Abdul Aziz, had treated me very badly and he had no consideration for the country under his rule. He spent all his money on toys unfit for a king—he had a machine to take pictures, like yours[35] but made of gold and set with jewels. The palace was full of his playthings, and each one of them was worth the pay of a regiment. He had carriages which he could not drive because there were no roads, and all sorts of foolish things, of which perhaps his lions were the most useful, for he fed them on his prisoners!” The Sherif actually smiled at his joke.
“He was so much in the hands of his Ministers that, even when Bou Hamara was at the walls of Fez, he did not know there was a rebellion. Mohamed Torres was talking to him one day, and he happened to mention the pretender. ‘Who is he?’ said Abdul Aziz. ‘I have not heard of him.’ Allah Mulai Hafid could not be deceived so easily! The Ministers kept everything from the Sultan, and, since one man may rule a country, but not many, it was written that he should fall.
“At that time we all thought Mulai Hafid, his brother, was a good Moslem and sincere, so I wrote to him saying that I would proclaim him as Sultan among the tribes, and he agreed, sending me the act of proclamation and ordering me to pitch my camp at Akbar el Hamara in the centre of the country. El Menebbhe was with me there, and we sent messengers to all the headmen, telling them of the new Sultan, who had now reached Fez. It was necessary that a deputation from each tribe should travel to the capital to make an oath before the Commander of the Faithful, so I gathered together ninety men, representatives of all the Jebala, and, with my cousin, Mulai Sadiq, we proceeded to Fez. Mulai Hafid received us with great honour, and we were lodged in the house of Mohamed Tazi in Abba Zarqui. It was a palace capable of sheltering all the ninety, and the Sultan spent 200 duros[36] a day for our food alone.
“I stayed there four months and three days, for there were many difficulties. I did not want to give up the protection of the English, but Mulai Hafid refused me a post in his Maghsen as long as I was a British subject. There was also the question of the ransom of Maclean, for only a third of it had been paid. The rest was owing in instalments, spread over two or three years.
“I had many meetings with Mulai Hafid, and I found him well educated and worthy of respect. Often I was alone with him in a part of the palace called Bab el Deaf. There was a Qubba lined with coloured glass and very splendidly furnished with carpets and mirrors. Here we sat and talked while slaves kept the door, and I did not know that, from the beginning, Mulai Hafid was in the hands of the French, who supplied him with arms and money. I thought that he was loyal and would save his country which he saw threatened, for he was a man of pleasant speech and the twist in his tongue was not visible. He gave me many presents of silks, guns, carpets and furniture, and a horse that no man had yet been able to mount. Allah, it was killed under me in battle! So there was much talk and much discussion, and it seemed there was no ending to the matter.
“The tribes were anxious for my return, for my country is always desirous of war, and it is only my influence which holds it quiet.” He made a gesture of flattening something with both hands. “At last I agreed to renounce the protection of your Government and also the money which was due to me as the ransom of Maclean. I signed a paper to this effect, and in return the Sultan appointed me Governor of Azeila and of all the tribes in the district—the Wadi Ras and the Beni Mesauer, Beni Ider, Beni Leit and the Anjera, the Garbis, Dedrus, Sumata, Beni Isef, Sahel, the Kholot, who were always rebellious under my enemy the Kaid Ermiki, Ahel Serif and Beni Gorfet.
“Then, when all these matters were arranged, Mulai Hafid sent a message to me, saying, ‘I would speak with you alone.’ I thought it was finished between us, and my men were making preparations for departure. When they saw the slave whispering in my ear, they said, ‘Allah knows if we shall leave this place before we die,’ but I went swiftly to the palace. It was the hour of noon, when no man receives a guest, but I was led straight to the private apartments of the Sultan and the doors were closed behind me. Mulai Hafid was sitting on a sofa, with his feet crossed under him, and he beckoned me to sit beside him, by which I saw the matter was one of friendship.
“He was troubled, and I thought I saw his thoughts for the first time. He spoke to me then about the Europeans and his fear that they would take the country. ‘I feel myself weak before them, and I need your friendship,’ he said; and I swore to him that I would render him any service at any time, but he was not satisfied. His mind was undecided like that of his brother, and he spoke of the future, when all would be taken from him. ‘My officials are like a flock of starlings fattening on the land,’ he said, ‘but if the Europeans come they will be like vultures, and it will be our bodies, not our lands, they will eat.’
“Then he got up and, making sure that we were alone, he brought the Koran from its case and unwrapped it before me. ‘Swear to me an oath’; he said, and laid the book between us. I answered, ‘An oath is not necessary, for my word is well known in the country. Many have broken faith with me, but my word is my manhood and my weapon. It is inviolable.’ Still he urged me, ‘In the name of Allah, swear to me that, till the day of your death, you will be with me for the defence of this country against the Christians.’ ‘Swear it with me,’ I said, and we kissed the Book and vowed never to cease from protecting the Moslem land and the Moslem peoples.
“That oath I have kept, and lost all things by doing it, except my honour, but Mulai Hafid was already leaning towards the French, and, in the end, he gave way to them altogether. So he broke faith with Islam, but not with me, for we swore that neither would deceive the other and that, whatever the one asked, the other would do. This oath was always kept, and, for the sake of it, at the bidding of Mulai Hafid, I released my greatest enemy when he was my prisoner; but that was later.
“So I left Fez in peace, and the Sultan provided me with a mehalla, furnishing it with arms and equipment and providing the pay of the men, but the act appointing me Governor was not yet in my hands. Mulai Hafid said to me, ‘I require 300,000 douros from the tribes, for my treasury is empty.’ So I went back to Akbar el Hamara and told the mountaineers what was required of them. Many of them refused to pay this tribute, and there was war. Beni Ider and Beni Gorfet in Gebel Habib were strongest against me, for the Sheikh of the latter was a great warrior and a descendant of Khad Reilan, who fought the English in Tangier. Mulai Hafid had given me artillery and ammunition so, in spite of the courage of the tribesmen, I conquered them and made them pay the money the Sultan demanded, and 300 douros extra for each day they had fought against me.
“This was not among the hardest of my campaigns, but, at one time, the three tribes of Anjera, Wadi Ras and Beni Mesauer rose against me, and they came unexpectedly around the mountain where I was camped. There were 5,000 men below me—” “Allah knows it,” interrupted the Kaid, lying on a mattress behind his master, who was enthroned in the mighty chair; “but it was like sparrows attacking the eagle which flies far above them.” “With me, were el Menebbhe and perhaps 300 others,” said Raisuli. “It was the dawn when we began to fight, and we lay hidden behind the boulders and fired till our rifles grew so hot that we had to put them into buckets of oil. Mubarak and Ghabah knelt one on each side of me, loading, till our fingers stiffened on the triggers. But the men of Beni Mesauer, Beni Aros and Anjera could not climb the mountain against the rain of our bullets. All day we fought and, at last, when the sun was low, I stood up on the rocks and picked out men like the hunter shoots hares, but none could touch me. In all my battles I have never been wounded. Then the tribesmen said: ‘It is enough! We have finished,’ but I shouted to them, ‘By Allah, it is not! You have visited me, and your greetings are buried in the flesh of my men. Be sure that I will return your visit!’
“It was then night, but the next day, before the barrels of our rifles had cooled, I led a force against the Anjera and burned their lands. They had thought, ‘He must be tired after the fight, so we shall have some days to rest,’ and, when they saw my army, they said, ‘We are lost, for Allah has strengthened him against us.’ The next day I went against Wadi Ras with another troop and defeated them, forcing them to pay tribute, so much for me, and so much for the family of each of my men who had been killed. Then I would have proceeded against Beni Mesauer, but they sent messengers to me, suing for peace. I was sitting under the trees at the edge of my camp when they came, and a red carpet was spread beside me, for I was about to pray. Then I said, ‘Let them take off their shoes before entering my camp, for this ground is my house and worthy of their respect!’ They came and stood before me, with their eyes downcast, as women in the presence of their master, and I granted their requests because Beni Mesauer is of my kin through my mother, and besides, it is not permitted that an Arab refuse a petition.
“By these means I collected the money that the Sultan had demanded, so much from each tribe, and it was Mulai Sadiq who had charge of it to send it to Fez. Mulai Hafid was glad when he received it, for there were many who continued to eat his substance, and he sent to me his first Minister. ‘I bring you greater wealth than you have collected for my master,’ he said, and gave me the letter proclaiming me Governor of Azeila and the tribes of which I told you. The Kaid, Ermiki, one of my worst enemies, for he was chief of the Kholot tribe, was then Pasha of Azeila. Ullah, he had paid 120,000 douros to the Sultan for this post, and I do not know how much more to the Ministers, that his petition might be favourably received. He had not yet made this sum out of the province he oppressed, so that which had been rivalry between us became, on his side, hatred.
“I stayed three months at Al Kasr, after which I left my cousin, Mulai Sadiq, there as Kaid and went to Azeila. Sidi Badr ed Din was also with me at Al Kasr. Do you remember?” “Ullah, do I not, since it was there you gave me such a beating!” Old Mulai Sadiq chuckled. “Tell the story, oh, full moon!” he urged.
“It was not my fault, but the fault of another,” began the secretary, showing very white teeth in an unlined face. “It was a question of some letters which the Sherif had received from the Maghsen. They were private and very important. No one must see them, yet the Sherif had put them down somewhere, and it was now midnight.” “It was your duty to look after these things,” interposed Raisuli. “True, Sidi, but, after all, it was someone else who had moved them. When they could not be found, the Sherif was so angry that he beat me with his fists and afterwards with his slippers. Ullah, my master can be energetic! I ran down the stairs into the street, and he rushed after me and threw stones at me, calling me a dog! He came so swiftly that you would have thought it was a gazelle which was behind me.” The idea of the huge bulk of the Sherif ever having the slightest resemblance to a gazelle was amusing, and Mulai Sadiq shrieked with laughter.
“Would you believe it?” he said. “It was thus I found them running through the streets of Al Kasr, at one in the morning, and the Sherif had not even waited for his slippers. I said to them, ‘Are you mad? Have the jinns got hold of you and taken possession of your senses? What will the people think, that a Sherif should behave thus?” Raisuli’s smile grew broader. “He abused us like a father,” he said; “but he forgot that he himself was shouting louder than we were. It is good for a man to be angry sometimes.” “Allah grant that it is not I who am in the way when next you are angry, Sidi,” said Badr ed Din piously. But it is quite obvious that all Raisuli’s household regard him with little less than adoration, and would not care what he did to them.
CHAPTER XI
BUILDING THE PALACE AT AZEILA
“When I came to Azeila,” said the Sherif, “I found there had been much injustice, and where there is no justice, there is no security. I made peace between the tribes and brought safety to the town. As when I was Governor of el Fahs, merchandise could be left unguarded and no man needed a gun. When there was a rebellion among the tribes I put it down with a strong hand—for if you have a sore which is poisonous, it is better to cut it out at once, rather than to make a great many slashes which are useless. My name was protection enough for any traveller, and once again the suqs were full. At this time I tried to turn my enemies into my friends, for I saw that politics would be difficult in the future and that Moslems must stand together.
“The worst quality of the Moors is that they cannot look ahead. Every man and woman in England, perhaps even the children, know that France works for a great African Empire which shall reach from Casablanca to Alexandria, but the Arab is like a child who has seen a peseta fall in the dust, and is so busy digging for it that he can think of nothing else. France is a strong nation, but she will not share the land, except as a farmer who drives his mules shares with them the value of the grain they thresh.” “She has done much for Morocco,” I protested. “The material and the labour are Arab. Only the head is French. She has spent no money on the country and taken much out of it; but that is the way of the strong. It is possible that our sons may bless her, but, as I tell you, no Arab looks beyond his own life. The civilization that you bring is like your wine, which goes to men’s heads and makes them foolish. You cannot make good Europeans out of us, but you can make bad Arabs.
“While I was Governor of Azeila I knew what was passing in Europe. I had men in Tangier who translated the foreign newspapers for me and sent me those paragraphs which concerned Morocco. There were others of my people in the post-offices and the markets, and all that was said came to my ears. The more I heard, the more I laboured to win the friendship of the educated, that I might teach them my views. At that time I was blind to treachery, and many sat beside me and ate my meat whose heads should rightly have been upon my gates. I said to myself, ‘If you can take the poison from a man’s heart he may be useful and pleasant,’ so to that end, my house was open to all men and none were denied.
“I began building my great palace by the sea, for there was no room to receive my guests in the little house where all my family were living. Because I wanted it done quickly, I said to all the country people, ‘Bring me material, so much for each man.’ All day they came in from the plain, bringing stones and bricks baked in the sun. Even the women carried their loads. Perhaps they hated me, but, doubtless, they thought, ‘Our Pasha must be very rich and mighty. He will be strong to protect us.’ They called my house ‘The House of Tears,’ because it had been built with forced labour, but it was very beautiful and, within a year, it was nearly finished. There was a great court, with a fountain which came from Italy. The floor was black and white marble, and the walls were decorated with mosaic. All day long men used to sit in a row by the door, with a basket of tiles beside them. The sound of their hammers was like music, and always, as they chipped, the heap of coloured fragments grew. There were other men who made the designs and wrote verses from the Koran in white clay round the walls, and others who painted the ceilings in bright colours, red and blue and that vivid yellow which is made from the yolk of an egg.
“There were many rooms in my house, for always my Wakils said to the country people, ‘Bring more and more stones, and the taxes shall be remitted to you, and my lord will consider this better than any presents of sheep and grain that you may give him.’ There was a gallery with a number of arches, from which I could look out on to the sea, and, on clear days, I could see Cape Spartel, and the air was good for my health, like the air of the mountains, for I cannot breathe in towns.”
For once the Sherif’s descriptions were hardly adequate, for his palace at Azeila is a fine example of modern Moorish architecture. The main block, which is quadrangular, is approached by a covered way, on one side of which are a row of prisons and, on the other, a long seat for the general public who wish to have a speech with the Sherif. This passage leads into a courtyard, with the house on one side and the audience-chamber, where, as Governor, Raisuli conducted his tribunals, on the other. There was a mosque just inside the main door, but, when I saw the palace, this had been dismantled and was used as a store for rows of mighty saddles covered with red and green stuff, richly embroidered with silver. There is a stair-case at each corner of the court, and, on the first floor, the great rooms, marble-paved, with gorgeous ceilings and painted walls, run one into another. The furniture consists of modern carpets, chiefly the work of Rabat looms, with mattresses covered in gay prints and the cushions peculiar to Arab houses, which always seem to be stuffed with small potatoes. At present Raisuli’s nephews, Mulai Ali, Governor of Beni Aros, and Mulai Mustapha, are living in the palace, and the walls of their rooms are hung with the newest maps of Morocco, in strange contrast to the riot of colour on the floor.
Wherever we went in the great house, it seemed that we followed in the footsteps of invisible women, who fled, whispering, before us, hurried away by their master’s Khalifa from the contamination of European eyes. Once or twice we almost caught up with them, and dark-skinned slave-girls, purposely the last of the scuttling throng, hid behind columns and peeped at us in a swirl of rose-red kaftans and muslin draperies.
The long gallery has a glazed-in front and, from it, we looked down the 90-ft. drop, over which it is said the Sherif forced the murderers, taken red-handed, to walk to instantaneous death upon the rocks. It is also said that one of them turned, unflinching to his judge and exclaimed, “Thy justice is great, Sidi, but these stones are more merciful than thou!” At one end of the cliff, half natural, half masonry, a bastion runs out to the sea, and on the top of it is an ancient cannon blest for all time, according to the devout Azeila, because the Sherif once sat upon it and, his beads in his hand, prayed from dawn till high noon.
“While I was Governor of Azeila,” said the Sherif, “there was no one hungry in the town. I gave bread and oil to anyone who asked for it, and in the court of my house there was always a bin full of loaves and jars brimming with oil from my olives. Men complained that I was severe, but never that I was unjust. It is sometimes wise to spend the lives of a few in order to buy the safety of many. The Arab has a short memory. He forgets his own troubles in a few days, and other people’s at once. You think, if you imprison a man, it will stop others committing his crime. I tell you, the reason of a man’s absence is never remembered, but the presence of his head on the gate is a constant reminder!
“Even in those days the gun was not long out of my hand, for suddenly my cousin, Mulai Sadiq, whom I had appointed Kaid of Al Kasr, wrote to me that Ermiki had gathered together the tribes of Kholot and Telig, and was advancing on the town. ‘Before my messengers are with you, they will have surrounded it,’ he said. ‘They are 3,000 men, and I have but 500, and no walls to protect me.’
“Now Al Kasr is an old town and the streets are very narrow, so the people throw everything out in great heaps beyond the houses. There is a wall of mud-heaps which are a good protection for a man shooting. So I sent other messengers to Mulai Sadiq and mounted them on fast horses. I told him to post some soldiers at intervals along these mounds, and that they must keep up a great show of firing, so that Ermiki would think the whole force of the town was concentrated to resist an attack. After this he was to divide the rest of his people into three parties, and two of these were to leave the town secretly by night, so that the flank of the enemy might be cut off. Then I summoned a force of my cavalry without notice, and told them we should start at once against some farms that would not pay tribute. There was no opportunity for news to be carried to Ermiki, for no man knew where we were going. We started at midnight, and rode for four hours. Then, when I knew that Al Kasr was in front of me, I told them my plan. It is 70 or 75 kilometres between Azeila and Al Kasr, and our horses were tired, but I sent one man on to the town to warn Mulai Sadiq, and, when a cannon was fired as a signal, the third party issued from the city and we all ate up the camp of Ermiki, which was still asleep. Many were killed and the rest fled—the Kaid jumped on his horse without his jellaba, and so escaped, but Ibn Jellali, who was with him, was captured and brought to Azeila. The Beni Kholot were so much surprised when bullets came from all sides that they carried away nothing in their flight. We found even the tea apparatus and the washing-basins and ewers.
“When I returned to Azeila, I sent for Ibn Jellali and said to him, ‘Is it not better to serve the lion than the fox?’ and he answered, ‘I cannot serve both.’ I kept him in my house and treated him as a guest, saying to him, ‘You are free to go. My horse is at your disposal.’ He said, ‘I have no gun, and so I am blind before my enemies.’ We were sitting together in a room upstairs, and I told a slave, ‘Go and fetch me a rifle, and see that it is loaded.’ He brought me one, and I gave it to Ibn Jellali, who placed it across his knees. Then I said to the slave, ‘Go away and tell the men at the gate that my guest departs.’ When we were alone Ibn Jellali said to me, ‘You have put your life in my hands!’ and I answered, ‘It is in the hands of Allah.’ So he stayed with me for days, and became my friend and, in the war with Spain, he was commander of my cavalry. Truly a man’s life is the least of his possessions. If he keeps his religion and his honour, he need not concern himself with guarding his life.
“A year afterwards I was at Akbar Hamara, and news came to me that el Ermiki was in camp some hours distant. The Kholot tribe had given me much trouble, for their Kaid had become a friend of Abdul Aziz, so I thought that this was my opportunity to make an end of matters.
“I took with me ten men and the two slaves whom you know, Mubarak and Ghabah, and we went quickly across the hills. It was a very dark night. There was no moon, and the way was difficult. We went so fast that the horses were exhausted and fell, but we had brought two extra animals with us, which was good, for I killed four that night with the pace and the roughness of the road. Allah was with us, for we rode with a loose rein and the spurs driven in, and what should have been a two-days’ ride we accomplished in eight hours. We came out on the top of a hill, and saw the tents of Ermiki below us. Then we urged our horses downward, and, Ullah, they went because they could not stop, and the two men who had none held to the stirrups and ran. We fell on top of the camp and went through it, and certainly the ‘baraka’ was on us, for the men thought we were jinns, and none fired a shot, till we had surrounded Ermiki, and he cried out my name.
“We took him back to Azeila, and he was my prisoner for eight days, and then Mulai Hafid wrote to me, asking me to release him, for his family was large and had much influence. So, though he was my enemy and was always plotting against me, I set him free because of the oath which I had sworn to the Sultan. In the same way, whatever I asked of Mulai Hafid, he did.” After the Sherif had left, Badr ed Din told me that Ermiki, who is now in the Riff, had offered 50,000 douros to the Pasha of Azeila if he could arrange his peace with Raisuli.
CHAPTER XII
LEGENDS OF CRUELTY
Many legends have grown up round the government of Raisuli at Azeila, but most of them are palpably untrue. It is said that he tortured his prisoners in dungeons where the light never entered, but there is not even a cellar in the “House of Tears.” The following is a typical fable. The townsfolk were protesting more indignantly than usual against the severity of the Pasha’s judgments, so it was decided to arrange a “miracle” for the benefit of the ignorant. In a yard near the hall of audience was a pit for baking tiles. The slabs of chalk are put into this depression and surrounded by live charcoal, after which a domed clay roof is built over them, with a hole for the smoke to escape. One day, when the pit was empty, the Sherif put a slave into it, and, after the cover had been duly erected, there was just one small hole through which the man could breathe. When the people were assembled, and Raisuli had pronounced his verdicts, the assembled townsfolk were surprised by his suddenly appealing to heaven. “Allah, they complain about my judgements, but thou knowest I am just,” he cried, and, from the depths of the earth beside him, came a voice which had strange echoes in it—“Thou art just and merciful in all thine acts, and in all the punishments which are inflicted by thine orders.” The terrified listeners flung themselves on their faces and could hardly be persuaded to look up, for fear of what they would see. When the hollow voice died away, they crept forward humbly to kiss the robes of the Sherif or the shoes which he had discarded on the threshold. “The voice of God has spoken from the furnace,” said Raisuli. “Close up the hole, for it is sacred and cannot be used any more.” So the slave died of suffocation, but without uttering a sound, for it was the will of Allah and the Sherif.
It is obvious that such stories are without foundation, for Raisuli has always been deeply religious and, while capable of encouraging the superstitious credence of his followers by tricks, he would neither take the name of God in vain nor treacherously condemn to death a loyal servitor. His punishments have, at times, been terrible, even inhuman, but they have been a just rendering of that law which demands an eye for an eye and a life for a life. It is often said of the Sherif that he knows the guilt in a man’s heart from his face, but I have never heard it suggested by Arabs that the innocent suffered at his hands. He exacted implicit obedience and he was held in such awe that even his prisoners did not try to escape.
“Prisons were not necessary,” said Raisuli, “for I had only to tell a man that he was a captive, and, believing that my eye would follow him wherever he went, he would sit down in the market-place and say, ‘Allah is with the Sherif, and no one can escape from God.’ In those days many men walked freely about the town who were my prisoners, and if I sent for a man he came without protest, though he did not know his fate.”
“It is true,” interposed Badr ed Din, “for it happened one day that I was riding from Jebel Habib to Azeila, and I passed a man going slowly on a donkey. He was a Sheikh, so I asked him the object of his journey, and he answered, ‘The Sherif has sent for me. There was a dispute in my village, and my brother stole some of my grain, so I burned his house over him, and, because there was a wind, the fire spread, and fifteen perished in the flames.’ ‘Ullah, Sidi, you will not long keep your head between your shoulder-blades, for the Pasha will put it on the gate,’ I told him. ‘If Allah wills,’ he returned. ‘But the Sherif has sent for me, and I must go to him.’”
“These occurrences were rare,” said Raisuli. “On the whole there was peace, and the country was quiet, till a band of the men of Beni Kholot established themselves in a certain hill and killed all who tried to pass. They had a secret hiding-place which my men could not find, and many complaints were brought to me, for the way was no longer safe, and the Ahl Serif were cut off from the coast. At last three of the bandits were killed and their heads were sent to me, for they had fallen into an ambush when they went to loot a village which they thought was undefended. Their fate frightened one of their leaders, and he wrote to me secretly, saying that if I would guarantee his security, he would come by night to Azeila and describe to me the hiding-place of the band.
“Treachery is of all things hateful in the sight of Allah, but I promised him his safety in order to ensure the capture of his followers. He came one morning when the sea was not distinguishable from the land, and I kept him waiting for many hours. He had much time to wonder if he had risked his head, and, when at last he was brought to me, he was uncertain, for a traitor is always a coward. I received him sitting on a carpet and, in front of me, were the heads of his friends. He trembled, and would have prostrated himself a long way off, but I beckoned to him to sit beside me on the carpet. ‘You are the guest of my house,’ I said, ‘and I cannot hurt you, but if ever we meet in the mountains, it will be your last day.’ Then he told me of the cave where his companions hid and of the way to reach it. When he ceased talking, I said nothing, and we sat in silence for a long time. Then I got up and called to a slave. ‘Take this man and put him in safety outside the town. Give him also the carpet upon which we have been sitting, for it has been soiled by the dust from his feet, and can no longer stay in my house.’”
There was a pause, while a minute slave crept in and saluted the Sherif’s sleeve, touching it only with his lips. However unimportant the message, it was always whispered into the ears for which it was intended, and was completely inaudible to anyone else. “Perhaps it is a woman who asks for something, for that is one of the slaves of the harem,” murmured the Spaniard, but the Sherif took no notice of the little servitor, except a muttered “Later on; I am busy.”
“If you tell your thoughts to anyone,” he said, “you lose control over them, and they are no longer your own; but I had a friend who was like my brother. He was a Spaniard, by name Zugasti, and he was the Consul at Larache. Europe never had another like him. Whatever he asked me I would have done, for his spirit was like a mirror and all his thoughts were good. He had the courage of a lion, but he went about the country unarmed, for he said, ‘Spain must convince the people by her actions, not persuade them by force of powder and shot.’ Once there was a ship loaded with cartridges at the mouth of the Luccus. It was hot, and there was no one willing to work. The crew slept on the deck, and at first the men ashore took no notice of a little smoke issuing from her stern. Then it was seen that she was on fire, and everybody was afraid, for there would be a great explosion, and even the town might suffer. The crew woke up, but they could not extinguish the fire. Zugasti, passing, heard the shouts and, when he discovered what was the matter, he seized the revolver of a policeman and jumped into the first boat he saw. By force he made the men row out to the ship, and his coming was life to the crew. Under his orders they worked to sink the ship and, while people expected every moment to hear an explosion, he sent the sailors ashore, but he was the last man to leave, and beneath him the water was sucking up the flames. Ullah, Zugasti was worthy of respect! The Arabs called him the Christian Sherif, and he would not gain one douro out of the country. He came to Larache richer than he left it. He was then about thirty or forty[37], but he had more wisdom than years. He had studied the customs and laws of Islam, and talked Arabic better than I do.
“To this man, my brother, I told some of my thoughts, for, like the sun in the morning, the French were creeping slowly nearer to my country. In the neighbourhood of Al Kasr I had a mehalla of 500 men, under the Kaid Bussa el Melsuni, and always it watched the progress of France. I knew that soon there would be a battle, and then, Allah forbid! we should have been lost, for the French never go back. Therefore I consulted with Zugasti and also with your Minister, Lister, and I thought, ‘The Spaniards are strong enough to help us, but not so strong that they will oppress us.’
“Then one night Zugasti came to me. He was covered with dust and the sweat ran into his eyes. His horse stood in the yard where he left it, and there was death in its eye. An enemy of mine, Tazya of the Beni Aros, had captured Hamed ben Malek and his two sons and had imprisoned them in his house at Mesmuda. He had taken their mules, their horses, all their possessions, and he threatened their lives, if a ransom were not paid. He demanded 24,000 dollars and a quantity of arms and tents. Now Hamed ben Malek was under the protection of Spain, as were many merchants in Larache and Al Kasr. In those days when a man wished to avoid the just punishment of his actions he put himself under the protection of a European Power.” “As you did, Sidi, after the capture of Maclean,” I murmured. “Ullah, your tongue is a sword,” retorted the Sherif imperturbably. “Zugasti said to me, ‘If these things are allowed, it will be bad for the honour of my Government,’ but I was glad of this event, for I had been wondering how I could introduce the forces of Spain into the country, and what reason I could give to the people; so I answered, ‘Wait a few days, and all that you desire will happen.’
“Two ships came from Spain and anchored in the Luccus, and the next day news was brought that Hamed ben Malek had been killed, with his sons. The bodies had been disembowelled and stuffed with straw, and the heads had been mounted on posts from which fluttered the flags of the tribe. In this manner they were taken round the country, while Tazya incited men to rebellion, saying, ‘The Pasha is afraid to attack us.’ It would have been easy for my troops to put down the revolt, and I could have done to mine enemies the double of that which they had inflicted on Ibn Malek, but I saw that Allah was with me in my design and that the weapon I had sought was already in my hands. I said to Zugasti, ‘Do not doubt that the offenders will be punished, but, as you fear for the respect of your country, let your soldiers land from the boats and make a demonstration in the town, for if the weather is bad, the boats will have to leave, and then our opportunity will be lost.’
“The next day there was trouble in Al Kasr. A body of mountaineers rode into the town and fired on the people in the market. There was much alarm, and the cavalry turned out. The bandits were chased back to the hills, and some were killed, but the merchants protected by Spain appealed to their Consul, who reported the matter to Zugasti. There was a meeting between the European representatives, and then my friend came to me and said, “All are willing, but we wait for your help. If a shot is fired at the landing of our troops, it will echo throughout Europe.’ I replied, ‘If Allah wills, you shall land in peace,’ and I looked out over the sea which has never belonged to the Arabs. What is written is written, but my responsibility was great. I remembered the oath which I had sworn to Mulai Hafid, and I said to Zugasti, ‘My country needs help, and you have promised to serve her interests, but a man cannot forget his own nation. Make a covenant with me that you will always be a friend to the Arabs, and that this thing you ask is for their good.’ He answered in our words, ‘On my head and my eyes it is so.’ Then I said, ‘You are of my family, and we will repeat the Fatha together, for if I have made a mistake, Allah witness my intentions were good.’ That is the only time I have said the Fatha with a Christian.
“The troops disembarked at night, for it was June and very hot by day. A red flag flew from the Consulate, and Spanish police patrolled the streets, but the peace of the town was in the charge of the Pasha, Mohamed Faddel Ben Zaich. The principal men had met in his house, and he had told them, ‘This is the will of the Sherif, and there must be no opposition,’ so all the hours of the night my people were in the streets, calming the citizens and consoling them. Wherever there was a group whose voices were raised and whose gestures became violent, there also was one of my men, murmuring, ‘It is in the hands of Allah and the Sherif. Do not interfere.’ The balconies and the roofs were crowded with people, who watched in silence.
“There were some who said, ‘We have been sold to the Christians,’ but others covered their faces and answered, ‘Allah alone knows.’ The Jews did not hide their rejoicing, for they had been subject to us and of little account. They were not allowed to wear shoes when they passed through a street wherein was a mosque, nor might they sit down in the presence of the ulema. It happened perhaps that a man wanted money, and the Jews had it, though their wealth could not be judged by their clothes. The man might go to a Hebrew and demand charity, but if the Jew was not quick to open his purse, he got a few blows on the skull; yet, if such things were reported to me, I punished the offender and restored his property to the Jew, for the Prophet has said, ‘I came not to destroy, but to construct,’ and ‘Take what is good from every religion and leave what is bad.’ So, when the light failed, for the moon was hidden and there was a mist on the river, the Jews brought lanterns and hung them on sticks so that the troops might see. The Arabs were sad, but resigned, for they believed the words spread by the Pasha, and before the dawn it was finished. For the first time the sun rose on Spanish troops encamped in the Kasbah of Nadir Ras Remel, and all this was done by my help.
“After this began the mistakes, and nobody can tell whose was the fault. I thought Spain would be guided by my knowledge and that, very slowly, I could induce the tribes to recognise her protection, but the Government sent Silvestre to command the troops which had been disembarked, and he was impatient and wanted to go too quickly. Truly he has been the enemy of my life, just as Zugasti has been its friend, but, one by one, all my enemies have gone, and I remain. Mulai Abdul Aziz came against me, and he fell. He burned my houses, but they are rebuilt. In the same way, Silvestre opposed me, and he died from his own bullet, which is a forbidden thing; but I am still here. It is the ‘baraka’ which is strong.
“When Silvestre landed, the people of Larache had learned that the troops would not do them any harm. On the contrary, they spent money, and the Arab cannot see beyond a douro, so the Colonel was received with rejoicing and the curious lined the streets to see him. Immediately he wished to march to Al Kasr, a town in the neighbourhood, which they regarded as an army in the pay of the Sherif. Truly he is great.”