Chapter III

Flat country—Practice at Heliographing—Cold nights—Roadside
sacrifice—View of El Araish—Saints and lunatics—Reception at
Alcazar—Musicians—Town of Alcazar—“Kohl”—Sultan el Mansor—Battles of
Alarcos and Alcazar—Compounding a felony.

_Camp, outside Alcazar,
Thursday, 8th April 1880._

We seem to be leaving the pretty country behind us the farther inland we get, and our road after leaving Síd el Yemáni, through the Fahs er Rihán, or Plain of Myrtles, was flat and monotonous. If, however, not so much to our taste as the hills and woods near the coast, it was fully appreciated by our provincial escort as affording endless opportunity for the exercise of lab el barôd, with which we have been indulged _ad nauseam_ for two days.

Yesterday one of them nearly suffered in an unexpected manner from his devotion to this pastime. He was the soldier in charge of the luncheon-tent, and, instead of pitching it in a pretty little wood about eight miles on the road, as he was specially ordered, went on four miles farther into the flat sandy plain, at a place called Ghadda. We were all furious, as there was neither shade nor water, and the old kaïd, sharing our feelings, ordered him out for instant bastinado, which would have been carried into effect but for Sir John’s interference in his behalf. I think, in secret, however, we all regretted this reprieve, being anxious to see the performance of the operation. After lunch on that day I left the main body early, and cantered on into the next camp—El Hamáya—unpacked the heliographs, which had just come in with the tents, and sent one back on a mule to meet the column, getting mine, in the meantime, to bear on the luncheon-tent, and flashing to my colleague there what I had done. My messenger met the whole procession coming along, and they halted with much solemnity to watch the proceedings. As soon as we got the instruments aligned on each other, a message came from the kaïd to “tell his servant to prepare hot water for his tea on arrival.” I gave the message at once, and it made a great impression on the kaïd when he rode into camp two hours later; but he evidently suspects that through my instrumentality his servant has become leagued with Satan, from whom he is convinced—so he told Sir John at the time—that all these inventions emanate.

The camp at El Hamáya was prettily situated on a small sandy hill, with the River Machassen, muddy, but full of excellent fish, flowing round its base; the cold there at night seemed intense, and most of the party wore their greatcoats at dinner. In the drawing-room tent in the evening I sat playing chess in a big ulster and a rug over my knees, and even then could not keep warm. One advantage of this severity of the weather at night is that the Moors’ tongues seem to get frozen up, and consequently the camp enjoys perfect quiet from after dark till the gun fires in the morning.

His Excellency’s progress through the country is a great opportunity for unfortunate victims of native tyranny to bring their complaints before him, and one of their methods of attracting attention, which we noticed to-day, is very singular. In the earlier part of the march we came across the newly slaughtered body of a sheep with its throat cut, and the blood flowing across the path. About twenty yards off sat its owner, watching if any notice would be taken. Unfortunately, in this instance, nothing could be done; we were approaching a large town, and had attention or redress been extended to the poor man, the whole road to-morrow might have been strewn with petitions and sacrifices, their innocent blood pleading for inquiry.

The early morning sun shining on some white minarets and towers about twelve miles off to the north-west, caused a dispute among the authorities as to what town it was; eventually it was decided to be El Araish; and as we think of returning home by the sea-coast, I daresay I shall be able by and bye to describe the place.

The vast plain we rode across after leaving El Hamáya this morning was beautifully green with barley and long rich grass, a pleasant thing for scorched and aching eyes to rest upon. We seem now to have entered upon a succession of enormous plains, bounded at a distance of six or seven miles by moderately high mountains, but open on the west towards the sea, which is about fifteen miles distant. At the foot of the hill, and just off our track as we left camp, sat a holy man, half saint and half madman, most scantily clad, and very dirty. He had a bit of sacking spread in front of him, upon which most of the escort chucked a coin _en passant_. In this country lunacy is regarded as a manifestation of divine favour, God having taken the fortunate person’s reason into His own keeping, to be restored to him hereafter in better case than had the original proprietor been in continual possession of it; the Prophet, too, specially commends the person of the lunatic to the good offices of the faithful.

Our El Araish escort leave us to-morrow. When first they joined us at Síd el Yemáni, they mustered about a hundred strong, but have now dwindled down to fifty, His Excellency having dispensed with the attendance of those to whom absence from home may be inconvenient. These men are a kind of _landwehr_, or rather yeomanry, fine-looking fellows, with well-appointed horses, and are bound to turn out on the shortest notice from the chief of the district. Among those who are left is one very picturesque youth with a dark bronze-coloured face set off by a bright purple _jeláb_, or cloak, the hood of which, usually drawn up over his head, gets blown back as he dashes past on his dark gray horse in the lab el barôd, in which exercise he is a proficient. We shall miss him to-morrow when the escort is changed on the frontier of this province, as the bright colours he affects, and the striking expression of his face, render him a distinguishing feature of the troop.

As we approached Alcazar this afternoon, after surveying it all the morning from our luncheon-tent on a hill three miles off, preparations for our reception became apparent. A small line of horsemen under the acting kaïd of the place, and behind them a motley crowd of townspeople, with last, but not least, in point of noise, the most indefatigable band I ever heard, were assembled about half a mile from our camping-ground, and accompanied us thither. As we proceeded the powder-play became fast and furious; the riders rushing past us _ventre à terre_, with a yell discharging their guns almost into our faces, while improvised crackers were let off among our horses’ legs; all this, combined with the noise of the _music_ (save the mark!), contributed greatly in the eyes and ears of the populace to our successful entry. Arrived here, we took refuge in our tents, while the spectators formed a large semicircle in front, at one corner of which the musicians, prominent among whom were two trumpeters, continued their performance with ever-increasing vigour. Never shall I forget the faces of those two minstrels as, seated on their thin, scraggy ponies, they blew an almost uninterrupted blast to the delight of the crowd, and to our great and increasing wonderment; their very souls seemed to go out into their instruments, while their cheeks on either side were distended to such a degree, that they resembled, both in size and appearance, ordinary bladders. We were beginning, like the natives, to grow fascinated with the sight and sound, when an order emanated from the tent of His Excellency, who was busy writing despatches, for the concert to cease, and the performers having been remunerated for their pains, the band moved off, the trumpets braying loudly to the last.

As soon as our minds were sufficiently composed after the above musical treat, we sallied forth to inspect the town about a quarter-of-a-mile off; the party was “personally conducted” by our head interpreter, an obese Israelite, whose good-nature is only equalled by his obtuseness, and whom we have christened Tweedledum, while his colleague, who is his counterpart in every way, is named Tweedledee. They are both Moorish Jews, and the former seemed to have a large circle of acquaintance among his fellow-believers in this town. He took us into the house of a wealthy Jewess, who, after taking us up to the roof—from whence we had an excellent view of Alcazar and its environs—regaled us with sweetmeats, washed down by a thick luscious sort of wine, which, though strong and heavy, was not unpleasant. The house was large and airy, the top being open to the sky, but it was dirty and untidy, and the whole quarter where the Jews lived filthy to the last degree. We took rather a fancy to the town of Alcazar, with its quaint old Sôk or market-place, and its winding main street roofed in by a trellis-work of vines. Here we were followed by an eager and inquisitive, though quite civil and good-humoured crowd, who manifested the keenest interest in the few purchases made by the infidels. Among these were some mysterious-looking little bits of cane, hollowed out, and containing a fine black powder called _kohl_, a preparation of antimony, which is highly recommended by the natives as a cure for inflamed eyes. Whether its fame is justly acquired or not I shall know better hereafter, having submitted to a plentiful application of it myself this evening at the hands of one of the Moors, my eyes having bothered me considerably for the last day or two in consequence of a couple of hours’ practice at too short a distance with the heliographs. Their manner of applying the kohl is with a stick the size of a knitting-needle, which, being damped, is dipped into the powder, then drawn gently along between the eyelids, which are closed upon it.

As we are not accustomed yet to wading through miry and narrow streets with an escort of soldiers keeping off the crowds by a free application of their sticks, we were glad once more to get out of the good town of Alcazar, beyond the gates of which none of the people followed us. It is difficult to estimate the population of a town of this sort, and travellers have variously put it at from 5000 to 30,000. In a conversation I had with a rather intelligent Jew, who could talk a little French, and who attached himself to us in the town, I learnt that his estimate was 12,000, including 1700 Jews, which numbers I should think were pretty near the mark. It has evidently been a place of considerable importance in bygone ages, and the open ground to the north, where we are encamped, shows many traces of ancient walls and large buildings. The place is said to have been founded by Yakúb el Mansor (the Victorious) in the twelfth century, in gratitude for shelter accorded to him by a poor fisherman, when he had lost his way and got benighted out hunting. This romance, however, falls to the ground before the evidence of Edrisi and El Bekri, the latter of whom, living before El Mansor’s time, speaks of the place, under the name of Sôk Kotáma, as a “large and magnificent town.”[15] It was in the reign of this Sultan that the giralda and mosque in Seville were built, as a record of his victory over Alonzo of Castile at Alarcos, where a fabulous number of Christians are said to have been killed, A.D. 1109. We passed to-day, near the Wad el Machassen, the site of another and more recent battle disastrous to the Nazarenes—that, namely, of Alcazar—where the King of Portugal, coming from Azîla, a small village on the coast, was totally defeated by the Moorish monarch, just three hundred years ago, and, together with many adventurous spirits who had come from all parts of Christendom to share his triumph, perished on the field of battle. Windhus,[16] who passed through this country in 1721, writes that the “Portuguese dispersed in the battle could not believe their king was slain, but ran up and down crying ‘Onde este el Rey?’ The Moors often hearing the word _rey_, which in Arabick signifies ‘good sense,’ told them that if they had any _rey_ they had never come thither.” For many years they believed Don Sebastian was still alive, and over his tomb near Lisbon may be read the doubting epitaph, “Hic jacet in tumulo, _si fama est vera_, Sebastes.”

This afternoon, as we were sitting at tea in the drawing-room tent, a deputation of three of the headmen of the district waited on His Excellency on behalf of a robber chief who was in jail in the town, and in whose release they were interested. Some six months ago he and his band had seized on a camel laden with grain, belonging to one Allarbi, a servant of Sir John’s, and chief of the boar-hunters, whom he employs; and in addition to the loss of the grain, the camel had died, the robbers having over-driven it in their anxiety to escape from Allarbi and some of his fellow-hunters, who had speedily put themselves on the track. The robbery had taken place in a wood through which we passed to-day, and the delinquents had been closely followed and overtaken, but the grain was gone and the camel dead. The total loss to Allarbi was one hundred and twenty dollars, but he had agreed to take ninety. The robber had been in confinement ever since, but, owing to his interest with the authorities of Alcazar, his case had not been sent up for the decision of the Sultan, who would probably have inflicted a heavy fine, and imprisonment till it was paid, to say nothing of a little flogging and torture by way of expediting matters. He now offered seventy dollars if he might be released, which sum the deputation had with them; and it was curious to watch the eager argument of the three men, handsome and intelligent-looking old fellows, as they pressed His Excellency to accept the compensation, their expressive gestures and significant looks enabling one almost to understand their pleadings. Allarbi was not present, but at the door of the tent stood his brother Hadj Hamed, also a retainer of Sir John’s, and in chief charge of all our camp establishment. He being pretty well acquainted with the administration of justice in the country, and knowing that if the case went up to the Sultan his brother’s pecuniary satisfaction would be small, added his word of advice to the arguments that were going on inside the tent; so that eventually the compromise was accepted, and, the money having been counted out, the deputation withdrew, evidently much delighted with the success of their negotiation.