| By Author | [ A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z | Other Symbols ] |
| By Title | [ A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z | Other Symbols ] |
| By Language |
|
Download this book: [ ASCII ] Look for this book on Amazon Tweet |
Title: Journal of a tour in Marocco and the Great Atlas
Author: Ball, John, Hooker, Joseph Dalton
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Journal of a tour in Marocco and the Great Atlas" ***
AND THE GREAT ATLAS ***
MAROCCO
AND
THE GREAT ATLAS
[Illustration]
[Illustration: From a Drawing by W. Prinsep, December 1829
PANORAMA OF THE GREAT ATLAS FROM THE CITY OF MAROCCO]
_JOURNAL OF_
A TOUR IN MAROCCO
AND
THE GREAT ATLAS
BY
JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER, K.C.S.I., C.B.
PRES. R. S.
DIRECTOR OF THE ROYAL GARDENS, KEW; ETC.
AND
JOHN BALL, F.R.S., M.R.I.A.
ETC.
_WITH AN APPENDIX_
_including_
_A SKETCH of the GEOLOGY of MAROCCO, by GEORGE MAW, F.L.S., F.G.S._
[Illustration: CAPE SPARTEL]
London
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1878
_All rights reserved_
_PREFACE._
The expedition of which an account is given in the following pages
was undertaken in the year 1871, and it was originally intended
that a narrative of the proceedings should be given to the public
soon after our return to England. Sir Joseph D. Hooker, who made
careful notes throughout the journey, hoped to complete the work
without much delay, and actually wrote the greater part of the
first two chapters; but the constant demands upon his time arising
from his official duties at Kew, and the important botanical
works to which he is a chief contributor, further increased by
his election, in 1873, to the Presidency of the Royal Society,
so far interfered with the completion of the original design as to
compel him to request his fellow-traveller, Mr. Ball, to undertake
the completion of the work. The latter was at the time engaged in
preparing for publication a memoir on the Flora of Marocco, which
has since appeared in the Journal of the Linnæan Society, wherein
the botanical collections made during the journey are enumerated
and described; and his performance of the task allotted to him has
been further delayed by several prolonged absences from England.
As regards many countries visited by travellers a delay of several
years in publication might seriously affect the accuracy of a
narrative intended to represent the existing condition of the
country and its inhabitants; but in the case of Marocco, where,
from a comparison with the accounts of early travellers, no notable
change is apparent during the last two centuries, the effect of a
few years’ interval may be considered insensible. Up to the date
of our visit the Great Atlas was little better known to geographers
than it was in the time of Strabo and Pliny; and it may be hoped
that whatever interest belongs to our journey is as great now as
it was at the moment of our return.
The narrative now published is mainly founded on the journals kept by
Sir J. Hooker and Mr. Ball, supplemented in some particulars by that
of our fellow-traveller, Mr. G. Maw. To the latter we owe a sketch
of the Geology of Marocco, which appears in the Appendix. Along
with this we have published some interesting contributions received
from Mr. H. B. Brady and Mr. Freeman Bogers, as well as some papers
upon various matters connected with the physical geography and the
flora of Marocco.
It is impossible to present these pages to the public without
repeating the expression of our obligations to some of those to
whose assistance we largely owe whatever success we were able to
attain. Foremost amongst these we must name H. E. Sir John Drummond
Hay, K.C.B., British Minister Plenipotentiary in Marocco. From
the moment when, in compliance with the request of Sir J. Hooker,
Lord Granville, then Foreign Secretary, instructed our Minister to
apply for the permission of the Sultan to visit the Great Atlas,
Sir J. D. Hay, by his extensive knowledge of the country and the
people, and by his great personal influence, afforded invaluable
assistance to the expedition.
We were also much indebted for assistance and hospitality to the
British Consular agents on the Marocco coast, and especially to
the late Mr. Carstensen, then Vice-Consul at Mogador. We should not
omit our acknowledgments of the courtesy and valuable information
received from the late M. Beaumier, French Consul at the same port.
We trust that in the course of the following pages we have not
omitted to express our thanks to other friends who have kindly
contributed valuable information. The scope of this volume
being mainly to give an account of our personal experience and
observations, we have used, but sparingly, other materials, which
might be in place if we had aimed at the production of a work of
a more elaborate character.
_CONTENTS._
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Voyage to Gibraltar — View of Tangier — Interior of the town —
Portuguese and English occupation — Hospitable reception by
Sir John Drummond Hay — Ravensrock — Government of Marocco —
Climate of North Marocco — Exceptional season — The Djebel
Kebir and its vegetation — Cistus and Heath region — Cape
Spartel — Night at the Lighthouse — Cave of Hercules — Arab
village — Return to Tangier 1
CHAPTER II.
Start for Tetuan — Vegetation of the low country — Serpent
charmers — Twilight in the forest — The Fondak — Stormy
night on the roof — Breakfast on the hill — Riff Mountains
— A Governor in chains — Fate of high officials in Marocco
— Valley of Tetuan — Jew quarter of the city — Ascent of
the Beni Hosmar — Vegetation of the mountain — A quiet day
— Jewish population — Ride to Ceuta — Spanish campaign in
Marocco — Fortifications of Ceuta — Return to European
civilisation — Spanish convict stations in Africa 25
CHAPTER III.
Sail to Algeciras — Vegetation of the neighbouring hills
— Comparison between the opposite sides of the Strait of
Gibraltar — Return to Tangier — Troubles of a botanist — Fez
pottery — Voyage in French steamer — Rabat and Sallee — Land
at Casa Blanca — Vegetation of the neighbourhood — Humidity of
the coast climate — Mazagan — View of Saffi 58
CHAPTER IV.
Arrival at Mogador — The Sultan’s letter — Preparations for
our journey — The town of Mogador — The neighbouring country
— Ravages of locusts — Native races of South Marocco —
Excursion to the island — Climate of Mogador — Its influence
on consumption — Dinner with the Governor 75
CHAPTER V.
Departure from Mogador — Argan forest — Hilly country of Haha
— Fertile province of Shedma — Hospitality of the Governor
— Turkish visitor — Offering of provisions — Kasbah of the
Governor — Ride to Aïn Oumast — First view of the Great Atlas
— Pseudo-Sahara — Tomb of a saint — Nzelas — Ascend the
‘Camel’s Back’ — Oasis of Sheshaoua — Coolness of the night
temperature — Rarity of ancient buildings — Halt at Aïn Beida
— Tents and luggage gone astray — Night at Misra ben Kara —
Cross the Oued Nfys — Plain of Marocco — Range of the Great
Atlas — Halt under tamarisk tree 95
CHAPTER VI.
Approach to the city of Marocco — Pleasant encounter — Halt
in an olive garden — Interior of the city — Difficulty as to
lodging — Governor unfriendly — Camp in the great square —
Negotiations with the Viceroy — Successful result — Palace of
Ben Dreis — Diplomatic difficulties — Gardens of Marocco —
Interview with El Graoui 125
CHAPTER VII.
Choice of a route in the Atlas — Difficulty of procuring
information — Hills near the city — Panorama of the Great
Atlas — Probable height of the range — Wild birds of Marocco
— Condition of the Jews — Departure from the city — Farewell
interview with El Graoui — District of Mesfioua — Interview
with the Kaïd — Approach to the Great Atlas — Aspect of the
vegetation — Castle of Tasseremout — Washington’s visit —
Jewish suppliants — Great boulder mounds — Ourika valley —
Peculiarities of Moorish character — Rapacity of our escort 149
CHAPTER VIII.
Vegetation of Ourika valley — Destruction of the native trees
— Our progress checked — Enforced return — Shelluh village
— Ride from Ourika to Reraya — Trouble with our escort — A
friendly Shelluh sheik — Native desire for medical advice —
Characteristics of the Shelluhs — Zaouia of Moulaï Ibrahim —
Camp in Aït Mesan valley — Excursion to the head of the valley
— Reach the snow — Night travelling in the Atlas 175
CHAPTER IX.
The Shelluh sheik bribed — Arrangements for stopping at Arround
— Medical practice among the Shelluhs — Arabic correspondence
— Unexpected difficulty — Strange fancies of the natives —
Threatening weather — Our house at Arround — Gloomy morning —
Saint’s tomb — Escape from our guides — Strange encounter —
Snow-storm — Tagherot pass — Descent to Arround — Continuance
of bad weather — Sacrifice of a sheep — Shelluh mountaineers
— Fauna of the Great Atlas — Return to Hasni — Deplorable
condition of our camp 207
CHAPTER X.
Departure from Hasni — Plateau of Sektana — Grand view of
the Great Atlas — Departure of Maw — Village of Gurgouri
— Intrigues of Kaïd el Hasbi — Passage of the Oued Nfys —
Arrival at Amsmiz — Friendly Governor — Difficulties as to
further progress — Position of Amsmiz — Sleeping quarters
in the Kasbah — Fanatical sheik — Shelluh market — View of
the Amsmiz valley — Village of Iminteli — Friendly Jews —
Geological structure and vegetation of the valley — Sheik’s
opposition overcome — Ascent of Djebel Tezah — The guide left
behind — View from the summit — Anti-Atlas seen at last —
Deserted dwellings on the peak — Ancient oak forest — Rapid
descent — Night ride to Iminteli 239
CHAPTER XI.
Return to Amsmiz — Arround villagers in trouble — Pains and
pleasures of a botanist — Ride across the plain — Mzouda —
Experiences of a Governor in Marocco — Hospitable chief of
Keira — A village in excitement — Arrival at Seksaoua — Fresh
difficulties as to our route — A faithful black soldier — Rock
vegetation at Seksaoua — Ascent of a neighbouring mountain —
View of the Great Atlas — Absence of perpetual snow — Return
of our envoy from Mtouga — Pass leading to Tarudant — Native
names for the mountains — Milhaïn — Botanising in the rocks 271
CHAPTER XII.
Departure from Milhaïn — Defile of Aïn Tarsil — Dwellings
of the troglodytes — Arrival at Mtouga — Gloomy evening —
Governor’s return from the fight — Prisoners of war — Their
fate — Ride to Mskala — A venerable Moor — Return to the
Kasbah of Shedma — Poisoned guests — Ride to Aïn el-Hadjar —
The Iron mountain — Ancient mining work — Eccentric soldier —
Ascent of Djebel Hadid — Ruins of Akermout — Ride to Mogador
— A Kasbah in ruins — Powder-play on the beach — Return to
Mogador 299
CHAPTER XIII.
Second stay at Mogador — Plants obtained through native
collectors — Outrage committed by the Haha people — Story of
the troubles in Haha — Farewell presents to our servants and
escort — An unpunctual tradesman corrected — Exports from
Mogador — Caravans from Timbuktou — Jewish wedding — Voyage in
the _Lady Havelock_ — Land at Saffi — Excursion ashore — Land
at Mazagan — Return to Tangier, and thence to England 326
CHAPTER XIV.
Resources of Marocco — Moorish government a hopeless failure
— Future prospects of Marocco — Objections to European
interference — Answers to such objections 348
_APPENDICES._
APPENDIX A.
PAGE
Observations for determining Altitudes of Stations in Marocco. 357
_By_ JOHN BALL
APPENDIX B.
Itineraries of Routes from the City of Marocco through the
Great Atlas. _By_ SALOMON BEN DAOUD 366
APPENDIX C.
Notes on the Geography of South Marocco. _By_ JOHN BALL 371
APPENDIX D.
On some Economic Plants of Marocco. _By_ JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER 386
APPENDIX E.
A Comparison between the Flora of the Canary Islands and that
of Marocco. _By_ JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER 404
APPENDIX F.
A Comparison between the Mountain Flora of Tropical Africa and
that of Marocco. _By_ JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER 421
APPENDIX G.
On the Mountain Flora of two Valleys of the Great Atlas. _By_
JOHN BALL 423
APPENDIX H.
Notes on the Geology of the Plain of Marocco and the Great
Atlas. _By_ GEORGE MAW, F.G.S., F.L.S., &c. 444
APPENDIX I.
Moorish Stories and Fables 468
APPENDIX K.
On the Shelluh Language. _By_ JOHN BALL 478
APPENDIX L.
Note on the Roman Remains known to the Moors as the Castle
of Pharaoh, near Mouley Edris el Kebir. _Communicated by
Messrs._ W. H. RICHARDSON _and_ H. B. BRADY, F.R.S. 485
INDEX 491
* * * * *
_Errata._
P. 388, line 10, after ‘Pharmacographia,’ 502, insert Cosson, in
Bull. Soc. Bot. Fr. xxi. 163.
„ 394, „ 4 from bottom, for ‘Sus’ insert _Sous_.
„ 395, lines 4 and 9 from top, for ‘Sus’ insert _Sous_.
_ILLUSTRATIONS._
PANORAMA ON THE GREAT ATLAS FROM THE CITY OF
MAROCCO _Frontispiece_
CAPE SPARTEL _Title-page_
TETUAN _To face 39
page_
SAFFI „ 73
TOWER OF THE KOUTOUBIA AT MAROCCO „ 142
GREAT ATLAS FROM LOWER VALLEY OF AÏT MESAN „ 193
WEST END OF THE MAROCCO ATLAS FROM SEKTANA „ 242
DJEBEL TEZAH FROM IMINTELI „ 257
GEOLOGICAL SECTION OF THE PLAIN OF MAROCCO AND
THE GREAT ATLAS „ 460
_WOODCUTS IN TEXT._
PAGE
ARGAN TREES 97
REED SCREEN FOR LOCUST DESTRUCTION 159
FORT AT TASSEREMOUT 166
HOUSES AT ARROUND 215
ISOLATED MASS IN GREAT ATLAS 265
CLIFF SECTION, SAFFI 451
ROTULOIDEA FIMBRIATA (_Etheridge_) 452
CALCAREOUS CRUST (Surface and Section) 455
‘CAMEL’S BACK,’ FLAT-TOPPED HILLS IN THE PLAIN OF
MAROCCO 456
BOULDER MOUNDS, SKIRTING ATLAS PLATEAU ESCARPMENT
(Section and Surface) 459, 460
ROMAN RUINS OF VOLUBILIS 487
MOULDING OF DOUBLE INTERLACED LINES 488
_MAP_
A NEW MAP OF SOUTH MAROCCO, by JOHN BALL, F.R.S.
_At the end of volume._
JOURNAL
OF A
TOUR IN MAROCCO.
CHAPTER I.
Voyage to Gibraltar — View of Tangier — Interior of the town
— Portuguese and English occupation — Hospitable reception by
Sir John Drummond Hay — Ravensrock — Government of Marocco —
Climate of North Marocco — Exceptional season — The Djebel Kebir
and its vegetation — Cistus and Heath region — Cape Spartel
— Night at the Lighthouse — Cave of Hercules — Arab village
— Return to Tangier.
On Saturday, April 1, 1871, our party, consisting of Sir Joseph (then
Dr.) Hooker, Mr. Maw, and Mr. Ball, with a young gardener, named
Crump, from the Royal Gardens at Kew, left Southampton for Gibraltar,
in the Peninsular and Oriental Company’s Steamship _Massilia_.
Even for the ordinary tourist it is a pleasant thing to turn his face
towards the South in the early part of the year, and to feel that he
is about to exchange six or eight weeks of bitter easterly winds for
the bright skies and soft breezes of the Mediterranean region. Still
more does the botanist rejoice to quit the poverty of our slowly
unfolding spring flora for the wealth of varied vegetation that is
spread around the shores of the Inland Sea. But for us, the occasion
was one of deeper and more special interest. We were starting,
under unusually favourable conditions, to explore a country which,
though close to Europe, is among the least known regions of the
earth. Although the obstacles we were sure to encounter and the
limited time at our disposal, might not allow us to accomplish
much, we felt a confident hope that we should learn something of
a great mountain chain all but absolutely unknown to geographers,
and be able to fill up some missing pages in the records of our
favourite science. The thrill of pleasurable anticipation at the
prospect of setting foot within the boundaries of _terra incognita_
was heightened by the fact that for each of us this land of Marocco
had long been the object of especial interest and curiosity.
From an early period Hooker had conceived the desire to explore the
range of the Great Atlas, to become acquainted with its vegetation,
and to ascertain whether this supplies connecting links between that
of the Mediterranean region and the peculiar flora of the Canary
Islands. This desire was increased during a journey in Syria, in
1860, made in company with Admiral Washington, the late Hydrographer
of the Navy, one of the very few Europeans who had reached the
flanks of the Great Atlas chain, when, as a young naval officer,
he accompanied the late Sir John Drummond Hay on his mission to
the city of Marocco in 1829.
Maw had already made collections of living plants in the
neighbourhood of Tangier, and had also visited Tetuan, where he had
pushed his excursions farther than any but one preceding traveller.
Ball had landed at Tetuan in 1851 with the hope of attaining some
of the higher summits of the neighbouring Riff Mountains; but the
disturbed state of the country in that year made it impossible to
advance beyond the immediate outskirts of the city.
From the moment when it seemed likely that the permission to visit
the Great Atlas sought for by Hooker, through the intervention of
our Foreign Office, would be accorded by the Sultan of Marocco,
no time was lost in making the requisite preparations. Although
everything was done within about a fortnight, our equipment
was tolerably complete; and when, after the first excitement of
departure had subsided, we thought it over on board ship, we found
but one serious omission to deplore. Two mercurial barometers,
provided by Hooker, had been entrusted to Crump, and were by him
left behind at the last moment. Thus, in the important matter of
determining heights, we were forced to rely upon aneroid barometers
and boiling water observations. It was fortunate that Ball carried an
excellent aneroid, by Secrétan of Paris, which has before and since
been severely tested in the Alps with very satisfactory results,
and whose indications during our journey agreed closely with those
given by the thermometer in boiling water.
Among the various preparations made for our journey there was none
more important for our purpose than a manuscript catalogue of all
the plants hitherto known or believed to have been found in the
Empire of Marocco, which we owed to the kindness of our excellent
friend M. Cosson, the eminent French botanist. Up to that date
the information to be found in books was extremely scanty, and
scattered throughout various systematic works, and the whole when
summed up would have given a most incomplete account of the two
or three districts partially explored by botanists. M. Cosson, by
his unequalled knowledge of the North African flora, and by careful
study of all the collections made in Marocco, many of which are in
his exclusive possession, was the only person who could have supplied
the materials which were so serviceable throughout our journey.
In the agreeable society of old friends and new acquaintances, whom
we met on board the rather crowded steamer, the voyage to Gibraltar
did not appear too tedious, but we were well pleased when, on the
afternoon of the 6th, the moment came for landing.
We were not destined to see much of the famous ‘Rock’ or its
native ‘scorpions,’ whether biped or hexapod. Scarcely had our
voluminous baggage been transported to the hotel, when news reached
us that an English steamer was about to sail within two hours for
Tangier, and we at once decided that not a moment’s time should
be wasted. Back again our heavy goods, in which botanical paper was
a chief ingredient, were carried to the mole, and after paying the
innkeeper a pretty heavy ransom, on account of rooms ordered but not
used, and a hastily swallowed dinner, we once more found ourselves
afloat. So much haste was not necessary, for the steamer did not
start till some time after midnight; but the time was not badly
spent, for the steamer was one of those that ply between London and
the Canary Islands, touching at the ports on the Atlantic coast of
Marocco; and the skipper, who was an old stager, and had formed
his own opinions about the country, had plenty of information,
of a more or less authentic, but mainly discouraging, character,
which he was most ready to impart.
The distance from Gibraltar to Tangier is not more than thirty-five
miles, and we came to anchor in the open roadstead soon after
daylight on April 7. Unlike the ports on the Atlantic coast, the
shape of the land here gives some protection from the prevailing
westerly seas and winds; but in other respects this is a bad one. The
ruined mole, round which sand has accumulated, forms on one side
a dangerous reef, and elsewhere the shore shelves very slowly to a
moderate depth. Ships of any burthen are forced to lie out far from
shore, and the landing from boats is usually effected on the backs
of Jews, inasmuch as no Moslem will degrade himself by performing
such a service for a Christian.
On Good Friday the Jews were all engaged in the ceremonies of the
Passover; but, as the sea was unusually calm, we were able to land
on the ruins of the mole, and, after floundering through slippery
seaweed, we were not long in reaching the sea gate of the city.
We had already perceived that, although no longer in Europe, we
were yet under the shadow of European manners and customs. High
above the city walls we espied, as we neared the shore, several
conspicuous inscriptions, announcing the titles of various places
of entertainment. In the centre the ‘Hôtel de France’ gave
promise of culinary skill; but we preferred the ‘Royal Victoria
Hotel,’ whose title, in quite gigantic letters, first attracted
our notice, and which had been well recommended for cleanliness
and comfort. Our subsequent experience justified the choice, and
we had every reason to be satisfied with the attention we received
from the intelligent and obliging coloured proprietor, Mr. Martin.
Tangier stands on the western side of a shallow bay, on rocky
ground that rises steeply from the shore. Westward the hills
gradually rise in swelling undulations towards the Djebel Kebir,
or Great Mountain, covered with dwarf oaks and flowering shrubs,
that ends in the promontory of Cape Spartel. On the opposite,
or eastern, side the shores of the bay are low and sandy, but are
backed by the rugged range of the Angera Mountains, culminating in
the Ape’s Hill opposite Gibraltar.
As seen from the sea the town has a singular, though not an
imposing, appearance. Cubical blocks of white-washed masonry,
with scarcely an opening to represent a window, rise one above
another on the steep slope of a recess in the hills that faces the
NE. A few slender square towers belong to as many mosques of paltry
proportions. Numerous consular flagstaffs remind the European that
he still enjoys the protection of his own government, and on the
summit of the hill a massive gaunt castle of forbidding aspect shows
where he might expect to lodge if that protection were removed,
and he were to give offence to the native functionaries. Zigzag
walls encompass the city on all sides, pierced by three gates,
which are closed at nightfall.
The stranger, who knows that Tangier is one of the most important
towns of Marocco, and the residence of the representatives of the
chief civilised States, is apt to be shocked when he first sets
foot within its walls. The main street is as rough and steep as
the most neglected of Alpine mule-tracks, and disfigured by heaps
of filth—importunate beggars of revolting aspect, led about by
young boys, assail him at every step—there is no bazaar, as in
eastern towns, and the miserable shops are mere recesses, where,
in an unglazed opening, little larger than a berth in a ship’s
cabin, the dealer squats surrounded by his paltry wares.
On longer acquaintance, he will somewhat modify his first
unfavourable impression. Unlike the towns of Southern Europe, where
the main thoroughfares are cared for by the local authorities, while
filth is allowed to accumulate in the byeways, the dirt and offal
are here let to lie under his nose in the most public places, while
the steep narrow lanes—reminding him of Genoa—that intersect
the masses of closely packed houses, are generally kept clean and
bright with frequent whitewash. The silent dead walls that front the
public thoroughfares conceal the interiors of houses that are rarely
opened to the eyes of Europeans, but are not wanting in the signs
of wealth and of artistic taste. The dread of arbitrary exactions,
that elsewhere in Marocco drives the Moor as well as the Jew to
conceal the possession of property as carefully as men elsewhere hide
the evidence of guilt, is less keenly felt here. For in and around
Tangier, but nowhere else in this country, it may be said that life
and property are tolerably secure, not only from outward violence,
but from the caprice and cupidity of men in authority. The presence
of foreign diplomatic agents, and the constant communication with
Europe, have brought the Moorish authorities at this spot to some
extent under the control of civilised opinion, and the disastrous
encounters with France and Spain have convinced the Moor that,
with all his personal bravery, he cannot resist the regular forces
of his European neighbours, and must not provoke an unequal conflict.
Such historical recollections as are connected with Tangier are not
flattering to the self-love of the two nations of Europe that have
had most to do with it.
In 1437 the Portuguese, who then held Ceuta, attacked the town,
but their army was defeated under the walls, and they were forced
to conclude an ignominious peace. The terms included the cession of
Ceuta to the Moors, and the delivery as a hostage of Dom Fernando,
the king’s brother. The other stipulations not having been
executed, the victors threw Dom Fernando into prison at Fez, and
when he died in captivity hung up his body by the heels over the
city walls.[1]
The fortune of war was changed in 1471 when the Portuguese took
Tangier and several of the towns on the Atlantic coast, and the
Moorish Sultan was forced to pay tribute to King Emanuel. Under
less vigorous guidance, the Portuguese were unable to retain their
ascendancy, but they kept possession of Tangier till, after nearly
two centuries, it was, by a secret treaty, ceded to England as part
of the dowry of Catharine of Braganza on her marriage with Charles
II. When the brave Governor Dom Fernando de Menezes received the
information, he entreated the Queen Regent to spare him the grief of
seeing the city made over to the enemies of the Catholic faith. Her
answer was the offer of a Marquisate if he obeyed, and dismissal
from her service if he persisted in resisting her will. He chose
the latter, threw up his command, and devoted the rest of his life
to writing a history of the city. The English Court set great store
by the new acquisition, believing, as the Earl of Sandwich said,
that if it were walled and fortified with brass it would yet
repay the cost. But English policy was then at its lowest ebb,
and neither vigour nor intelligence directed any branch of our
affairs. The English settlers sent out were an ill-conditioned
rabble, ignorant of the country, its language and manners, and
the Governor and the garrison were no better than the rest. After
accomplishing one useful work by constructing a mole that converted
the roadstead into a secure harbour, they were disappointed in their
expectation of an extensive trade with the interior, and, what was
more galling, were worsted in every encounter with the Moors, till,
in 1685, the Government in London decided to abandon Tangier. When
this became known at Lisbon, the Portuguese strongly urged the
impolicy of abandoning such a position to pirates, and requested
that it should be restored to them on condition that the English
should have free use of the port. With characteristic meanness and
imbecility the Duke of York—soon afterwards James II.—opposed
the gift, and urged that the honour of England required that the
place should be dismantled, and be left for occupation to whoever
could hold it. His advice prevailed; and, on the retirement of
the English force, the mole was effectually blown up, destroying
the only good harbour for shipping on the seaboard of Marocco—a
distance of fully nine hundred miles.
Nature, however, has made Tangier the port of North Marocco, and, in
spite of human perversity, it is a place of some importance. Ready
access to the fertile provinces lying between the Straits of
Gibraltar and Fez has made it the centre of a considerable trade
in hides and grain, which go to France and England, to say nothing
of cattle and other supplies for the garrison of Gibraltar. Its
nearness to Europe has made it the residence of the representatives
of the principal civilised Powers, and its admirable climate has
attracted invalids from Gibraltar and elsewhere, in spite of such
drawbacks as dirt, bad smells, and the utter absence of roads.
On our arrival, we were most kindly received by Sir John Drummond
Hay, to whose intimate knowledge of the country and justly acquired
influence with the Moorish Court we are largely indebted for whatever
success attended our journey. We learned from him that the Sultan
had issued orders to the Governor of the Atlas provinces to allow
Hooker to visit the range of the Great Atlas south of the city of
Marocco, and to take every precaution for his comfort and safety;
but he added that, although there was no reason to doubt the
Sultan’s good faith, every artifice would be used to defeat the
object, and that it would not be prudent to start for the south
without an autograph letter from the Sultan himself, for which
he had already made application. The Court was at this time at
Fez—several days’ journey from Tangier; and, as business moves
at a slow pace in this country, it was probable that we might have
to wait some time for the necessary document. We therefore at once
decided on devoting the interval to excursions in the neighbourhood
of Tangier and Tetuan. The latter city lies at no great distance from
the lofty peaks of the _Beni Hassan_, probably the highest part of
the north-western range of the Lesser Atlas, best known as the Riff
Mountains. There could be no doubt as to the botanical interest
attaching to a visit to that range, the higher region of which is
entirely unknown to naturalists, and we were very desirous to make
an attempt in that direction. After full consideration, however, Sir
J. D. Hay felt it necessary to object to our project, as involving
undue risk. The Riff mountaineers enjoy a virtual independence,
merely paying tribute to the Sultan. They are fierce and fanatical;
and the presence of a Christian on the highest mountain, which
is rendered sacred by a famous _marabout_—tomb of a Mohammedan
saint—would be regarded as a profanation. Meantime, we were led
to hope that we should be able to ascend the mountains nearer to
Tetuan, and there was no difficulty whatever about excursions in
the neighbourhood of Tangier.
Our first walk, in the afternoon of the 7th, was in the agreeable
society of Sir J. D. Hay, to Ravensrock, his summer residence, on
the wooded slope of the Djebel Kebir, overlooking the straits. Near
the city gate we passed the cemetery, where turbaned tombstones
almost disappear amidst the copious growth of prickly pear
(_Opuntia vulgaris_), and then went some way through dusty lanes
between lines of American aloe (_Agave americana_), and quickset
hedges surrounding gardens where palms, acacias, and a few poplars
were the prevailing trees. As we cleared the enclosures, and got
into irregular, open ground, where steep slopes of uncultivated
land alternate with patches of tillage, our eyes were gladdened
by the sight of many a bright southern flower, already blossoming
abundantly, in spite of the weather which, till lately, had been
unusually cold. Trefoils, Medicagos, vetches, and other leguminous
plants were here the predominant forms, as they are everywhere in
the spring flora of the Mediterranean region. As we began to ascend
the flanks of the Djebel Kebir, the character of the vegetation
changed. Where the ground has not been cleared to make a garden for
some of the European residents, whose little villas are scattered
over the slope, the ground is covered with masses of luxuriant
shrubs, and climbing herbaceous plants, among which some familiar
forms of the North are mingled with many exotic species. Thus we saw
roses, brambles, bryony, honeysuckle, and white convolvulus holding
their ground amidst masses of lentisk, myrtle, Phillyrea, Alaternus,
dwarf prickly oak (_Quercus coccifera_), gum cistus, and the golden
profusion of five or six species of the _Cytisus_ tribe that replace
our native broom and gorse. After ascending several hundred feet
by the roughest of paths, carried along a shaded gully, we entered
through a gate the terraced garden whereon stands the house.
Nothing of its kind can surpass the beauty of the view. The steep
slope below is planted with oranges and pomegranates—the first
laden with golden fruit, the second with crimson flowers—broken
here and there by palms, figs, olives, and carob trees, standing
against a background of deep blue water, dancing in the gentle
westerly breeze. On our left the steep slope of the mountain,
rising over against the blue outline of Cape Trafalgar, forms
the portal through which the Atlantic pours its current into the
Mediterranean. Along the opposite shore of Spain every undulation,
from the coast to the distant purple sierra, is plainly seen. The
little town of Conil and the very houses of Tarifa are discernible
with the naked eye, and visitors are enabled through a glass
to watch the people as they come and go, and that extraordinary
phenomenon for Southern Spain, the diligence, that of late years
has plied between Algeciras and Cadiz. Turning to the right, the
eye reaches the entrance to the Mediterranean, between the rock
of Gibraltar and the loftier summit of Ape’s Hill; and in clear
weather the range of the Serrania de Ronda, stretching towards
Malaga, is seen on one side, while on the other the snowy peak of
the Beni Hassan, south of Tetuan, closes the view. To give variety,
if that were wanting, there is the ceaseless passage of shipping
through this greatest of maritime highways, in a double stream of
vessels, of every size and every nation, from the great Peninsular
and Oriental steamer to the Moorish felucca. It is an example of
the readiness with which sound travels over an unbroken surface,
that the morning and evening gun at Gibraltar, nearly forty miles
distant, are usually heard at this spot.
In the course of several delightful evenings passed in the agreeable
society of Sir J. D. Hay and his family, we obtained much curious and
valuable information respecting the country and its inhabitants,
most of which was confirmed by our own subsequent observation
and experience. We already knew that Marocco is the China of the
West, and that while other Mohammedan States have been drawn,
though at a tardy and halting pace, into following the general
movement of European progress, this has remained more isolated
and more impenetrable than even the Celestial Empire itself. But
we were scarcely prepared to find that the utmost excesses of
barbarism are matters of daily occurrence in a country so close at
hand; and though we had read startling statements in the books of
preceding travellers, and heard confirmatory tales during our stay
in North Marocco, we were inclined to think that, at the worst,
these referred to solitary acts of cruelty, probably magnified
by the proverbial tendency to exaggerate all that is strange and
horrible. It was not until we had spent some time in the southern
provinces, beyond the reach of European prying observation, that we
could persuade ourselves that these terrible stories of cruelty and
wrong merely give a true representation of the ordinary condition
of the country. Sir J. D. Hay, who probably knows it better than any
other European, was not slow to testify to the good qualities of the
rural population of Marocco, and the general absence of crime. We
were afterwards led to believe that if life and property may be
said to be tolerably secure throughout the portion of the empire
really subject to the Sultan’s authority, this is due rather
to the fact that temptation is rare, and the danger of swift and
bloody retribution imminent, than to the existence of any high moral
standard among the people. It is a strange inversion of all notions
of government, that crime should come from above rather than below,
and that the dread that men feel for the safety of their persons
and goods is directed rather to the constituted guardians of order
than to the outcasts from society. The first feeling of one unused
to a barbarous government is surprise that it should be allowed even
to exist, much more that it should possess considerable stability,
and be handed on from one generation to the next, without a general
outburst of resistance. Observation tends to explain this seeming
enigma. Bad as it may be, the oppression exercised by the few
strikes only those who are in some way conspicuous. The common mass,
who offer no special temptation to extortion, escape comparatively
unhurt, and feel little sympathy for the victim. Accordingly it is
only when a Sultan or a Governor indulges in mere gratuitous acts
of cruelty against his humbler subjects, that we hear of a general
revolt. Oppression is, after all, less intolerable than anarchy;
and at that very time most men would have chosen to live in Marocco
rather than in Sicily.
Among other objects of interest Sir J. D. Hay showed us a coloured
view of the Great Atlas range, as seen from the neighbourhood
of the city of Marocco, executed at the time of his father’s
mission to that city in 1829, and this naturally engaged our
special attention.[2] The most singular point in the structure of
the mountains was a very long range of what were represented as
precipitous rocks of seemingly uniform height and structure, that
appeared to rise abruptly from the plain, and to form an almost
continuous outer wall or rampart on the north side of the chain. We
were also shown a copy of Hollar’s[3] rare engraving, representing
Tangier at the period of the English occupation, with the soldiers
of Charles II., in their cumbrous uniforms, strutting on the mole.
Those who have read his interesting and lively little work,
‘Morocco and the Moors,’ will not be surprised that so keen a
sportsman and close an observer of the habits of wild animals as
our host should have many curious anecdotes to tell; but we were
not prepared to hear that less than twenty-five years before a
lion had been killed close to the spot where his beautiful villa
now stands. At the present time no animal of prey larger than a
jackal is seen in this part of the country, but the wild boar is as
abundant there as it is everywhere throughout Marocco. No doubt the
religious scruples that forbid the use of the flesh have gone far to
prevent the natives from reducing the numbers of these mischievous
brutes. One anecdote in favour of an animal whose moral character
stands in low repute may here be permitted.
Sir J. D. Hay had brought up a young leopard in his house until
the animal had reached his full size and strength, and it seemed a
scarcely safe companion for the younger members of his family. He
therefore resolved to present it to the Zoological Gardens in London,
where it was duly installed. Some two years later, when on a visit
to England, its former master bethought him of the leopard, and,
going to the gardens, recognised the animal and spoke to him in
Arabic. The once familiar sounds immediately awoke the animal’s
memory, and it at once displayed the appearance of unbounded, but
joyous, excitement. On explaining the circumstances the cage was
opened, and the animal showed the utmost delight at the approach
of its early friend and master.
On the night of Easter Sunday, while enjoying the cool air and the
view from the roof of the British Residency, we beheld that grand
display of the Aurora Borealis, which was visible at the same time
throughout Western Europe. As in the equally brilliant auroras
of the preceding autumn, which the popular imagination in many
different parts of Europe had attributed to the burning of Paris,
the characteristic feature of this display was the pale flickering
crimson tinge that rose from the northern and western horizon towards
the zenith. Brilliant auroral phenomena are rarely seen in so low a
latitude as Tangier; but thirty-two years earlier Hooker had beheld
them from a still more southern station, during the visit of the
Antarctic Expedition to Madeira in 1839, as described by Sir James
Ross in the narrative of that voyage.
We were much impressed by the accounts we received of the
remarkable salubrity of the climate of North Marocco, and we
gathered abundant evidence to the same effect in regard to other
parts of the territory. Nothing is more rare than to find a country
where neither the natives nor foreign visitors have any complaint
to make against the climate, and in that respect Marocco is almost
unique. As regards the season of our visit, however, our case was
that of nearly all travellers in whatever country they may find
themselves. We had arrived in an exceptional season! How often is
this fact gravely stated as something remarkable and unusual in the
experience of the narrator, whereas, if he would but reflect, it
merely represents the common experience of mankind in most countries
of the earth! Excepting some portions of the equatorial zone,
where the seasons recur with tolerable constancy, our notions of
the climate of a place are got at by taking an average among a great
many successive seasons. It is true that our own islands afford an
extreme instance of variability; but elsewhere in the temperate zones
of both hemispheres, the difference between corresponding seasons
in successive years is often very great. Any one who watches the
meteorological notices published in our newspapers, must be aware
that if any particular day, week, or month be compared with the
general average for the same period during a long term of years, he
will find it to be either considerably hotter, or colder, or drier,
or moister than the corresponding average day, week, or month; and
when registers shall have been kept for a sufficient time in other
countries, the same result will be seen to hold good, though in a
somewhat lesser degree. Travellers will then be prepared to find that
they should expect to enjoy or suffer from an exceptional season,
and will think it more remarkable when they happen to alight on a
season that approaches near to the average. That preceding our visit
had been unusually severe; snow had been seen at Tangier, and had
lain for some hours on the rock of Gibraltar, and, as a consequence
affecting the object of our journey, the spring vegetation in North
Marocco was unusually retarded. At the same time, so far as our
sensations went, nothing could be more agreeable than the climate of
this season, the thermometer in the shade during the day varying from
60° to 66° Fahr., and the air being delightfully clear and bracing.
On April 8 we started for a short excursion to the headland of Cape
Spartel. In the immediate neighbourhood of Tangier Europeans may
safely walk or ride unattended; but, as we were going a little beyond
the ordinary limits, it was considered prudent to give us the escort
of two soldiers, and to these we added a baggage mule and a native
guide. In a botanical sense we were about to travel over beaten
ground—the only spot in all Marocco where a naturalist can without
difficulty wander at will over rocky hills that retain their natural
vegetation. The little that was then known of the flora of the empire
would have dwindled to a scanty list if we had struck out the rich
collections that successive botanists during the last 100 years have
brought from the Djebel Kebir and the adjoining hilly district west
of Tangier. Although there was little prospect of new discovery, the
expedition could not fail to offer a veritable feast to a botanist,
and especially to one not already familiar with the vegetation of
the opposite coast and the adjoining region of southern Portugal.
After standing the fire of some harmless ‘chaff’ from the Jew and
Moorish boys that loitered about the city gate, we soon got clear
of the enclosures near the town, and descended through cultivated
land into a little grassy valley that lies below the hilly range
of the Djebel Kebir. Bright spring annuals—blue and yellow lupen,
crimson Adonis, a deep orange marigold (_Calendula suffruticosa_),
blue pimpernel, and other less conspicuous flowers—enlivened the
tillage ground; but the northern botanist is more struck by the
perennial species that hold their ground on the large portion of
the soil which the plough has not touched. Predominant among these,
as elsewhere throughout a large part of the Mediterranean region, is
the palmetto, or dwarf palm (_Chamærops humilis_). Where unmolested
by animals, and protected from the periodic fires that the native
herdsmen renew for the sake of getting herbage for their cattle,
it forms a thick trunk, ten or twelve feet in height, which probably
takes a long time to attain its full size; but in the open places it
is commonly stemless, and covers the ground with its radiating tufts
of stiff fan-shaped leaves. Many plants of the lily tribe abound;
but in this mild climate most of them had flowered in winter, and
few now showed more than their tufts of large root-leaves. Most
conspicuous is the large maritime squill (_Scilla maritima_ of
Linnæus). The flowers are not large or showy, and do not correspond
with the size of the bulb which often equals that of a man’s
head. Another species of the same genus (_Scilla hemisphærica_) is
more ornamental, as are the two common asphodels. The slender iris
(_I. Sisyrhynchium_ of Linnæus), whose delicate flower lasts only
a few hours—opening one at a time on successive days, appearing
about mid-day and withering in the afternoon—is very abundant.
On reaching the hollow ground, where a slender stream runs through
damp meadows, we were charmed by the delicate tint of a pale blue
daisy that enamels the green turf. It is merely a slight variety
of the little annual daisy (_Bellis annua_), so common in many
parts of Southern Europe; but the blue tint does not seem to have
been noticed elsewhere. The larger blue daisy, afterwards seen as
one of the ornaments of the mountain region of the Great Atlas,
was at first supposed to belong to the same species; but, besides
that this is perennial, it shows other less obvious differences.
It was on the slopes of the Djebel Kebir, where the stony ground
is almost exclusively occupied by a dense mass of small shrubs,
few of them rising more than three or four feet from the ground,
but nearly all covered with brilliant flowers, that we first began
to seize the really characteristic features of the North Marocco
flora. A great variety and abundance of flowering perennials of
shrubby habit is, indeed, a distinguishing feature of the whole
Mediterranean region; but very little observation was needed to
show that we were here in that well marked division that includes
Southern Portugal, South-western Spain, and the opposite corner
of Africa. This may be called for distinction the Cistus and Heath
region; for though most of the same kinds of Cistus and Helianthemum
extend as far as the south of France, and many species of heath
inhabit the Atlantic coasts of Europe as far north as Connemara,
it is only here that both these tribes flourish together, and give
a prevailing character to the vegetation. Most conspicuous of all is
the gum-cistus (_C. ladaniferus_), which in the Sierra Morena and the
adjoining parts of Spain and Portugal obtains such predominance that
for twenty miles together one may ride through a continuous thicket
where the peculiar scent of the gum that covers the leaves and
young branches is never absent. About Tangier the rich purple spot
that usually adorns the base of the large petals is wanting, and the
flowers show unmixed snowy white. Of the same tribe, besides several
true _Cisti_, there are many species of _Helianthemum_. Of heaths,
along with the commoner kinds (_Erica arborea_ and _E. scoparia_),
we saw in abundance the rarer and more characteristic forms,
_E. australis_ and _E. umbellata_. _E. ciliata_, one of our English
rarities, is here very scarce, though it grows on the opposite
side of the Strait. Our common heather (_Calluna vulgaris_)
still holds its ground, but in a poor and stunted condition. The
rhododendron of the East (_Rh. ponticum_), that is at home in
the mountain region of Asia Minor and Syria, and which strangely
reappears here and there among the low hills between Tarifa and
Algeciras, on the north side of the Straits, has not been found
on the African shore; but until the coast between Tangier and
Ceuta has become more accessible, it will not be safe to assume
that it is wanting. Among the many shrubby leguminous plants whose
flowers give the prevailing golden tint to the hill sides, two of
the Broom tribe (_Genista triacanthos_ and _Cytisus tridentatus_),
plants of very peculiar aspect and characteristic of this region,
attracted our attention. It is impossible to omit another ornament
of the hills—a plant rather widely diffused but nowhere common
(_Lithospermum fruticosum_), whose azure blue flowers formed a
charming contrast with the surrounding masses of golden colour.
The botanical district to which the northern corner of Marocco
belongs has been already called that of the Cistus and Heath, but no
single species of those tribes exactly conforms to the limits above
pointed out. There are, however, several less conspicuous plants
whose distribution more closely agrees with those limits. The most
singular of these is the _Drosophyllum lusitanicum_, a plant of
the sun-dew tribe, whose branched stem bears several large yellow
flowers. The numerous slender strap-shaped root-leaves, nearly a
foot in length, that are gradually contracted to the thickness of
whipcord, are beset with pellucid ruby-tipped glands, and present a
peculiarity that appears to be unique in the vegetable kingdom. Any
one who has remarked the growth of ferns must have seen that in the
young state the leaves are rolled or curled inwards, so that in the
process of unfolding the face or upper side of the leaf, which was
at first concealed, is gradually opened and turned to the light. A
similar process occurs in many other plants; but in _Drosophyllum_
alone, so far as we know, the young leaf is rolled or curled the
reverse way, so that the upper side of the leaf is that turned
outwards. It appears to grow in many parts of Southern Portugal;
reappears on the north side of the Straits of Gibraltar near Tarifa
and Algeciras, and on the southern side about Cape Spartel and on
the hills above Tetuan, where it commands a view of the opening of
the Mediterranean, but extends no farther eastward. Very similar is
the distribution in Europe of two ferns whose natural home seems to
be in the Canary Islands—the graceful _Davallia canariensis_, and
the _Asplenium Hemionitis_ of Linnæus. Both occur here and there
in shady spots, from the rock of Lisbon to Algeciras and Tangier,
but are unable to travel eastward beyond the Pillars of Hercules.
The scarcity of trees in this country is mainly due to the
mischievous interference of man. The same ignorant greed of the
herdsman, who to procure a little meagre herbage for goats sets
fire to wide tracts of brushwood, that has reduced whole provinces
of Spain to a nearly desert condition, has been equally busy and
equally effectual in Marocco. The evergreen oak, which might produce
much valuable timber, is the chief indigenous tree of this country;
but, except on the rocky western declivity of the hill above Cape
Spartel, few here arrive at a moderate growth, and the same is true
of the Portuguese oak (_Quercus lusitanica_). The latter, indeed,
never attains a considerable stature; but, where preserved from
damage, it forms thickets some twenty or thirty feet in height,
and, if duly protected, would help to preserve the hilly districts
of this region from being annually parched by the summer sun. One
of the shrubby evergreen oaks of this country (_Quercus coccifera_,
L.), whose dark green spiny leaves are more like those of a holly
than of an ordinary oak, might perhaps be successfully introduced
in the south-western parts of the British islands. Its very dense
foliage would make it valuable as a screen, and it produces a good
effect when mixed with other shrubs.
Although the distance did not exceed ten or twelve miles, we had
so much to do in filling our tin boxes and portfolios that the sun
was sinking in the Atlantic as we reached the lighthouse at Cape
Spartel. It is impossible not to feel some interest in this structure
that for so many a mariner marks the limit of the great continent,
more than three times the area of Europe, that remains, in spite
of all the efforts of modern enterprise, the chief home of all that
is strange and mysterious and unknown in the world. It represents,
too, the only concession that the Moor has made to the demands of
modern civilisation; for the building has been raised at the cost
of the Sultan of Marocco, though the expense of its maintenance
is shared between the four Powers, England, France, Italy, and
Spain. The representatives of these States at Tangier form a board
of management, and each in turn undertakes the actual control and
inspection of the building. It was by an especial favour, and on
the ground of our scientific pursuits, that we received permission
from the Spanish Consul-General, then Acting Commissioner, with
the concurrence of his colleagues, to lodge for the night within
the building. It stands on a rocky platform some 250 feet above the
sea. The massive tower, or pharos, that bears the lantern, is about
eighty feet in height, and, with the annexed building, is enclosed by
a strong wall, forming an outer court. The interior of the building
is singularly picturesque. An inner octagonal court, surrounded
by pillared arcades, supported on round, slightly stilted arches,
with a fountain of cool spring water in the middle, gives access to
the rooms, small and bare but perfectly clean, of which three were
given for our accommodation. Some fowls and eggs supplied by the
lighthouse-keeper, eked out by the provisions we had carried from
Tangier, produced an excellent supper, and the evening was fully
employed till a late hour in arranging and laying out the spoils
of our first day’s work in Marocco. It was near midnight when,
before turning in for the night, each in turn paused in the court
to enjoy the exquisite beauty of the scene. The full southern
moon poured a flood of silver light through the arched spaces,
converting the pattering spraydrops of the fountain into pearls and
diamonds. The shadows of the slender columns lay like bars of ebony
on the white flags; while, for a roof, the Great Bear, every star
twinkling its brightest, stretched upward towards the zenith. The
great tower rose in dark shadow, for the lantern was turned away
from us; but we could discern, streaming out to seaward, in spite
of the apparent clearness of the air, two faintly marked cones of
yellow light that were soon quenched in the moonlight. The air was
still, the sea was quiet, and at first the silence seemed unbroken;
but as the listener stood, the pulses of the great ocean, though
they smote but gently the cavernous rocks below, beat distinctly
on the ear, and marked the passing minutes.
We rose betimes next morning, finding fresh enjoyment in each breath
that we drew of the delicious air, and after breakfast set out for
a walk southward along the coast. For the first two or three miles
the rocky ground sloped downward towards our right, and finally fell
steeply to the beach. It was apparent that the season was not quite
advanced enough to enjoy the full beauty of the flora, but we found,
besides the _Drosophyllum_ already mentioned, many interesting
forms. Orchids were not so abundant as they usually are at this
season in the warmer part of the Mediterranean region. _Platanthera
diphylla_, growing in shady spots, was the only uncommon species.
An indentation of the coast marks the spot where a slender stream
descends to the sea through a stretch of white sand; and beyond
this the rocky coast rises but slightly above the sea level. Our
steps were directed towards the so-called Cave of Hercules. This
was originally a mere hollow in the face of the sea cliff; but from
a remote period of antiquity it has been quarried for the purpose
of extracting the hand-mills universally used in this part of
Marocco. These, which are quite the same as the Scotch _querns_,
are cut out in the rudest way by hammer and chisel, leaving the
surface of the rock marked by a series of circular indentations about
eighteen inches in diameter. In this way the original dimensions of
the cave have been greatly enlarged, and, as it is still worked for
the same purpose, the process is sure to be continued. In connection
with the question raised of late years as to change of relative
level of land and sea within the historic period, we observed some
very ancient markings that showed the works to have been carried
somewhat below the present level of high tide; but we could trace
none that appeared to reach so low as that of the ebb tide.
So far as the evidence at this point goes, it seems to prove a slight
amount of submergence during the period for which the rock has
here been quarried. This period may probably be reckoned at 2,000
years, and possibly much exceeds that limit. Taken in connection
with still existing remains in Greece, Asia Minor, the Phœnician
coast of Syria, and Egypt, it tends to show that the changes in
the general level of the Mediterranean coasts, indicated by many
geologists, must have proceeded very slowly during the historic
period, and that the more considerable oscillations, that have
undoubtedly occurred near Naples and on the east coast of Sicily,
have been mainly due to the local influence of volcanic action.
The soil near the cave was much mixed with sand carried by the wind,
and the plants seen were chiefly widely diffused species that find
tolerably uniform conditions of life on the sandy shores of the
west coast of Europe. The rocks near the cave produce samphire and
the sea fern (_Asplenium marinum_), just as they do in Cornwall;
while _Diotis maritima_ and _Lotus Salzmanni_, a local variety of
the widely spread _Lotus creticus_ of Linnæus, were frequent on
the sands. The chief ornament was _Statice sinuata_, whose delicate
azure flowers were already in blossom, long before most of the
species of that late-flowering genus.
Our course now lay inland; but, instead of following the direct
way back to Tangier, we were led by a false report (our first
experience of blundering interpretation of English by the help of
Moorish Arabic) to bear to the left, and recross the Djebel Kebir,
so as to take Sir J. D. Hay’s villa of Ravensrock on our way back
to the town. Near the track we passed close to a native village,
or _douar_, the first which we had seen. When we had heard that the
native population is broadly distinguished into two classes by the
fact that some retain their original nomadic habits so far as to
live permanently in tents, moving from one spot to another during
the course of the year, while the others live in houses, and have
become rooted to the soil, it never occurred to us that there could
be any difficulty in distinguishing between one class and the other
with the help of such obvious characteristic marks. But we soon found
that the difference is but slight, and not very apparent. The black
camel’s hair tent is often, both in seeming and in fact, a more
durable dwelling than the miserable huts, composed chiefly of slender
branches to which the dried leaves still adhere, covered sometimes
with brown straw, and oftener with some tattered fragments of cloth,
the remains of worn-out garments. Only the mountain tribes, the
descendants of the ancient Bereber stock, whose southern descendants
we were to become acquainted with in the valleys of the Great Atlas,
have preserved the familiar use of stone masonry in this part of
Africa. Laden with plants, and with appetites sharpened by our
climb over the hill, we returned to our comfortable quarters at the
Victoria Hotel. We did not pass over the very highest point of the
Djebel Kebir; but an observation taken some sixty or eighty feet
lower indicated an elevation of about 800 feet above the sea level.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: This episode forms the subject of Calderon’s noble
play—_El Prencipe Costante_.]
[Footnote 2: A copy of this view is given in the frontispiece.]
[Footnote 3: Wentzel Hollar (or Hollard), a native of Prague, was
sent to Tangier in 1669 by the king to take views of the town and
its fortifications, which he afterwards engraved. Being one of the
most distinguished engravers of the time, he settled in England, and
executed some 2,400 prints, chiefly etchings, which are remarkable
for their spirit, freedom, lightness, and finish. Hollar was one of
the most conscientious of men; he worked for the booksellers at the
rate of 4d. an hour, and always with an hour-glass on his table,
which he invariably laid on its side, to prevent the sand from
running, when not actually at work with his pencil or graving tool,
and even when conversing on his business with his employers. He is
said to have died in great poverty, with an execution in his house
and a prison in prospect.]
CHAPTER II.
Start for Tetuan — Vegetation of the low country — Serpent
charmers — Twilight in the forest — The Fondak — Stormy
night on the roof — Breakfast on the hill — Riff Mountains
— A Governor in chains — Fate of high officials in Marocco —
Valley of Tetuan — Jew quarter of the city — Ascent of the Beni
Hosmar — Vegetation of the Mountain — A quiet day — Jewish
population — Ride to Ceuta — Spanish campaign in Marocco —
Fortifications of Ceuta — Return to European civilisation —
Spanish convict stations in Africa.
On April 10 we started, rather late, for Tetuan, leaving our
tents and heavy baggage at Tangier. Our pompous interpreter,
Hadj Bel Mohammed by name, whose huge blue spectacles seem to be
permanent appendages of the Victoria Hotel, we found forward and
intrusive in manner, and indolent and inefficient in action, and
altogether of no account as a companion to travellers. Of the two
soldiers who formed the escort—one recognised by his taciturnity
the inferiority of his position; but the other by his quaint
appearance and jocular disposition afforded us much amusement,
if not much reliable information. This little fellow is properly
called Hadj Mohammed, but he seems to be familiarly known among the
English visitors to Tangier by the name of Bulbo. There was nothing
military about him, except a very long gun which, throughout our
journey, remained carefully covered up in an intricate red cloth
case. If by any chance his aid had really been required, and such
an unlikely suggestion were admitted as that Bulbo would have done
anything else than put spurs to his horse and run away, he would
have been driven to beg the attacking party to give him a quarter
of an hour’s delay to get ready for action.
The distance from Tangier to Tetuan is only about forty miles;
but we decided on stopping for the night at the Fondak,[1] a
solitary Moorish caravanserai, about thirty miles distant from
Tangier. Hurrying past the accumulations of offal and filth that
are shot over the seaward face of the city wall, and indulging in a
ten minutes’ gallop over the sandy beach, we left the seashore;
and, after riding some way through deep sandy lanes, before long
reached a stretch of low cultivated land that extends westward
from Tangier to the hills that divide this from the neighbouring
provinces of Laraish and Tetuan.
The season was not sufficiently advanced for the flowering of
many seaside plants; but there was quite enough to rejoice the
eyes of botanists who had escaped from the ghastly spring season
of the North when the days grow longer, but only more dreary,
and the bitter east wind parches and blasts the young leaves and
blossoms that are tempted to their destruction by the mildness of
our winter weather. As everywhere on the seaboard of Marocco, the
great yellow chrysanthemum (_C. coronarium_), with florets varying in
hue from orange to pale lemon colour, is conspicuous on sea banks,
with several fine species of Heron’s-bill (_Erodium_). In the
sands a large purple-flowered _Malcolmia_ (_M. littorea_) and many
_Leguminosæ_ already diversified the aspect of the vegetation; while
robust _Umbelliferæ_, mingled with the familiar eryngo of our own
shores, had as yet merely developed their showy leaves.[2] But the
characteristic form which chiefly interests the stranger to this
region is a grey leafless bush, with long pendulous whipcord-like
branches waving in the breeze, that is common among the sandhills,
and recurs elsewhere in dry exposed situations. There is something
sad in the meagre and drooping aspect of the plant that brings
to mind those dismal mourning trinkets, wherein a lock of hair is
made to form the effigy of a weeping willow. This is the R’tam
of the Moors, whence botanists have formed the name _Retama_ for
a small group of brooms, containing a few nearly allied species,
that are widely spread throughout the region extending from Spain to
the Canary Islands. In the early spring our Tangier plant (_Retama
monosperma_ of Boissier) is covered with clusters of small white
odoriferous flowers. These had nearly all disappeared, and were
succeeded by little hard one-seeded pods, which in some of the
varieties ultimately become thick and fleshy, and are much sought
after by birds. Not uncommonly the slender branches are laden with
clusters of a small species of Helix that at some distance might
be taken for fruit.
Without halting, except at one spot to secure some specimens of
the great onion (_Allium nigrum_ of Linnæus), we rode pretty fast
through the belt of cultivated land that lies between the shore and
the hills. The agriculture of this country has probably undergone
little change since the earliest historic period. The plough in
daily use is the same that is figured on the monuments of ancient
Egypt, and with two exceptions the crops are the same—barley,
wheat, lentils, vetches, flax, and pumpkins. America has supplied
two valuable articles of food—maize and potatoes—and two exotic
plants that have become so common as to modify the appearance of many
localities—the _Agave_, or American aloe of British greenhouses,
and the Indian fig (_Opuntia vulgaris_)—both extensively used
for hedges, and multiplying freely on waste ground. The last-named
plant contributes to the scanty dietary of the natives; but the
fruit, when eaten in any quantity, is said to be indigestible, and
a potent ally to diarrhœa and dysentery. On reaching the hills, of
which we merely crossed some low spurs, the aspect of the vegetation
became more varied. The dominant plants were still those we had seen
in similar situations about Tangier—the palmetto (_Chamærops
humilis_), the great branched asphodel (_Asphodelus cerasiferus_),
and some spiny species of the Cytisus tribe; but the slopes were
covered with a brilliant and varied vegetation, presenting a marked
contrast to the comparative monotony of the tillage region. Most of
the common orchids were seen, and we admired the many climbing plants
that cover the bushes, and even reach the tops of tall trees. The
beautiful _Clematis cirrhosa_ is, indeed, less common here than
it is in Algeria; but the two forms of _Smilax_, the spiny and the
smooth-stemmed (_S. aspera_ and _S. mauritanica_), were abundant;
and a wild vine is common here, as it is in similar positions on
the northern skirts of the Great Atlas, where it is not known to
have ever been cultivated for the production of wine. Our chief
botanical prize in this part of the day’s ride was a beautiful
Cytisus, with silvery white leaves and numerous dense heads of
bright yellow flowers (_Genista clavata_ of Poiret).
Throughout all this part of Marocco we were struck by the abundance
of a dwarf plant of the artichoke tribe (_Cynara humilis_), which
plays an important part in the domestic economy of the natives. It is
almost stemless, and produces (at a later season) a large blue head
of flower from the midst of a great tuft of much divided and very
spiny leaves. Though not cultivated, it grows in great abundance in
waste spots and the margins of fields on clay soil. Great piles of
it were exposed for sale about the land gate of Tangier; and every
morning whole processions of men, women, children, and donkeys,
all laden with the same substance, were to be seen taking the
same direction. It was painful to watch the women, half veiled,
but not so as to disguise their age and ugliness, staggering onward,
with huge bare legs and feet, under balloon-like loads of this spiny
burden, tied up in a large coarse cloth. At this season the foliage
serves as fodder for animals; somewhat later, when the heads are
approaching the flowering state, they are extensively consumed as
food for the human population, the end of the stem and the receptacle
being eaten raw, as artichokes are in many parts of Southern Europe.
Though, to judge from the extent of tillage, the population cannot be
very small in this part of the country, we saw but few habitations,
and those of the most miserable description—chiefly low mud hovels
in small groups, seemingly built with a view to avoid observation
in out-of-the-way spots, and never near to the main track. In this
region the natives are of mixed race, partly Moors and partly of
Bereber stock, descendants of Riff people, who have come down from
their mountains to settle in the low country.
We made our mid-day halt in a rich green level tract that lies
between the first and lower hills, and a second and more considerable
range which connects the Angera Mountains on the north with the
higher mass of the Riff Mountains south of Tetuan. The drainage
of this broad valley seems to flow southward till it falls into
a considerable stream, descending from the high peaks of Beni
Hassan and its neighbouring summits, that reaches the sea on the
west coast some eighteen miles south of Cape Spartel. Our eyes were
here gratified by the sight of comparatively fine trees, everywhere
so scarce in Marocco. Of these the most conspicuous is a southern
species of ash, very like the common tree. It is the _Fraxinus
oxyphylla_ of Bieberstein, which extends from Southern Russia and
the Levant to Spain and Marocco. The leaves and fruit are smaller,
but in this district the tree rivals in stature our native British
species. Poplars are common beside the streams, which are fringed
by tall oleanders and willows, and in drier spots the fig, carob,
and olive grow to a large size. The almond tree is also common,
but does not appear to have naturalised itself.
Animal life does not seem to be abundant; but some of the birds
were new enough to our eyes to diversify the way; The commonest is
the stork, which appears, from a sense of entire security, to have
assumed a tone of complete intimacy with his human neighbours. He
may be seen about the houses, familiar with the little brown-faced,
black-eyed boys, or striding majestically through the crops, or
wheeling slowly in wide circles through the air, till he suddenly
stops, drops his long legs that had been stretched out behind him
during flight, and, poising himself on them like an acrobat on
loose stilts, comes to rest. A blue headed bee-eater, apparently
the same species that is extremely common in South Marocco, was
also seen during our ride.
As we began to ascend the main range of hills that still separated
us from Tetuan we overtook a couple of wild-looking fellows,
one carrying a tambourine, the other a cylindrical basket, who
soon showed that they wanted to attract our attention. Our stately
interpreter, riding along with his nose in the air, purblinded by
his blue goggles, took no notice of them till one sat down and began
tom-toming on the tambourine; and Bulbo, ever ready for amusement,
soon enticed us to see the snake charmers. These have been so often
described, that it is enough to make a few notes on the natural
history of the exhibition. The object of the tom-toming—at first
gentle and lastly furious—with which the performance commences, is
clearly to aid the charmer in his endeavours to addle his brains, and
deaden his nervous susceptibility, so that he may better encounter
the pain, which, though not intense, must be considerable. His
own share commenced by frenzied dancing and bodily contortions,
and above all rolling his head violently from side to side. This
accomplished, the basket was opened, and after a good deal of
hustling two magnificent snakes unwillingly glided out, raised their
beautiful heads, looking as proud as swans, glanced scornfully about,
and very naturally tried to get back. This the charmer prevented, and
still keeping up his abnormal nervous condition by rolling his head
and eyes, bullied one of them into biting his arm, and then his hand
between the thumb and forefinger, and drawing blood. He next vainly
tried to make a snake strike at his forehead, and then prevailed on
it to seize on his nose, and lastly on his protruded tongue, where
it held on, probably attracted by the moisture, for some seconds,
leaving two bleeding wounds on the upper surface of the organ,
and as many on the under. With the snakes still hanging about him,
the hero concluded the performance by laboriously thrusting a skewer
through his cheek, which had no doubt been previously perforated
for the purpose; after this the serpents were allowed to retire
into the basket, which they were nothing loth to do. In these
performances, which have been seen by most travellers in Egypt
and India, there is little doubt that the poison-fangs have been
previously extracted. Whatever may be said of the effect produced
by music on serpents, there is no reason to suppose that it can
modify the poisonous effect of their bite, and the real object in
these cases is to act on the nervous system of the snake charmer
himself. We were glad when the disgusting exhibition was over, and we
left the performers well pleased with a gratuity of about eighteen
pence—quite as much as five shillings would be to a poor man in
England. When once the secret had been learned, many an English
bumpkin could be got to undergo the operation for a pot of beer.
As we began to ascend the rugged track that winds up the hills
the aspect of the country soon changed. Amidst the brushwood that
covered the slopes, old gnarled trunks of wild olive, carob, and
lentisk stood here and there—survivors of the forests that must
once have covered the country—whose charred stems and maimed
branches told a tale of the way in which man’s reckless greed
has marred the face of nature here, as in so many other parts of
the earth. Our last halt for botanising was near a spring, where
the green turf was decked with many small orchids—all of them
possibly forms of _Ophrys lutea_. We were not then acquainted with
the careful observations of the late Mr. Treherne Moggridge, who
completely proved that the differences in the form and colouring
of the corolla which have been supposed to separate several species
of the genus _Ophrys_ are variable, even on the same plant; but our
passing remarks entirely tally with his conclusions. As we lingered,
the sun sank below the horizon; we unwillingly hearkened to the
exhortations of our followers, who seemed to grow uneasy at the
chance of being benighted, and pushed on towards our resting place.
The weird figures of the stunted and maimed monsters of the forest
drew closer together as we neared the crest of the hill, and,
in the fast growing gloom, assumed at each moment a more wild
and threatening aspect. Bare branches standing against the sky,
and eye-like holes in the black hollow trunks, were transfigured
by the fancy; and to at least one of us the tale of Sintram, and
Albert Dürer’s quaint old woodcut, supplied additional elements
to the mental picture; until, as we emerged from the wood, the note
of the cuckoo, bringing a whole train of home associations, suddenly
broke the spell. We rode onward, and soon stood before El Fondak, the
most stately place of shelter for travellers in the Marocco Empire.
From without this shows a rather imposing aspect, resembling that
of a hill fort. A strong wall, some eighteen or twenty feet in
height, without window or opening of any kind, except a central
gate, surrounds a large court-yard. We had been warned that the
accommodation within was not good, and we were not long in coming
to the same conclusion.
The large quadrangle formed a sort of stable-yard, wherein were
littered camels, horses, mules, and donkeys. The surrounding
enclosure, covered with a flat stone roof, was walled in on two
sides, and on the others formed a range of open sheds wherein the
camel drivers piled their burdens, or the keeper of the caravanserai
sheltered his cattle. On the other sides a series of doors gave
admission to as many small cellars, or dungeons, with no other
opening than the door for admitting light or air, empty, except for
remnants of dirty straw and rubbish, but apparently tenanted by every
imaginable variety of insect and creeping thing. The keeper of the
caravanserai, a repulsive-looking old man, threw open one of the
doors, and explained that the apartment had been reserved for our
use. No deliberation was necessary on this occasion, for a unanimous
declaration burst from our lips—nothing would induce us to enter
such a filthy den—and we at once announced our intention to pass
the night upon the roof. Our luggage was accordingly conveyed up
through a narrow stone staircase, and we proceeded to prepare our
frugal supper, of which portable soup was the chief ingredient,
and soon afterwards to make our arrangements for the night.
Our so-called interpreter had become altogether obnoxious to
us. During our mid-day halt he had coolly appropriated the most
comfortable spot in the shade, devoured most of our oranges, and
plainly showed that he had no notion of taking the slightest trouble
about a set of Frankish lunatics, who spent their time in grubbing
up little weeds by the roots, and looking at them through bits
of glass. He relieved us altogether of his presence this evening;
and we felt a certain satisfaction in thinking that his well-fed
carcase would during the night supply wholesome and abundant food
for the legions of hungry insects that tenanted the ground-floor
of our hotel. Old Bulbo, whether because he shared our preference
for the clean and airy quarters on the roof, or because he wished
to display his zeal for our protection, installed himself with the
long gun in the red case at a convenient distance, while we, after
slowly consuming the evening cigar, unrolled our cork mattresses,
and prepared our bivouac. We scarcely noticed at first the peculiar
construction of the roof. Round three sides of the building there
was a low parapet wall, but none whatever towards the front, where
the flags sloped slightly outwards, and ended abruptly at the edge of
the outer wall of the building. The stars shone brightly in the sky,
and a pleasant breeze from the east fanned our faces as we lay down
to rest on the front part of the roof, congratulating ourselves on
the excellence of our quarters, when compared to the misery we had
escaped below. Before long the breeze freshened, the night grew
cooler (55° Fahr.), and we were glad to lace the oilcloth covers
of our mattresses so as to keep out the keen air. Before doing
so, Hooker judiciously laid an empty box on the windward side,
and steadied it by placing within it two or three bottles of wine,
and a few other luxuries for our consumption, his watch, and such
other miscellaneous articles as lay at hand. Snugly ensconced in
our coverings, oblivion soon crept over us, and we slept, it is
hard to say how long. A horrid crash, and the fall of a heavy body
between the adjoining sleepers, startled two of them into sudden
consciousness. It was something like what happens in the saloon of
a steamer, when a heavy sea strikes the ship, and, amidst a smash
of broken glass and crockery, one is suddenly roused from one’s
sofa by the unexpected visit of one’s neighbour’s travelling
bag and hat-box. The cause of the phenomenon was the same, though
the position was very different. The wind had risen to something
more than half a gale, and seemed much inclined to sweep clear
away from the stone roof everything that was not firmly fixed in
its place. As we lay tightly laced in our oilcloth covers, like
the chrysalis in its case, it cost some struggling and wriggling
to get ourselves free, and rush to the rescue of our property,
which was careering along the roof before each gust of wind that
struck the building. Several articles had already been carried away
over the edge; but the moon, shining brightly from amidst the light
scudding clouds, helped us to recover everything of importance. The
watch and note-book were safe; but the contents of a broken bottle
of claret had somehow run under the cover of Hooker’s mattress,
and, placed as we were, the attempt to rearrange it was something
like the classical difficulty of ‘swopping horses in the middle
of a stream.’ Cautiously creeping about to see what had befallen
our companions, we found the faithful Bulbo (with more practical
meteorological instinct than we had displayed) safely ensconced on
the lee side of the low parapet. The shapeless heap, rolled up in the
multitudinous folds of a white haïk, could not have been recognised,
but for the inevitable long gun in the red case that lay beside it.
Little sleep was to be expected for the remainder of the night, and
with the first light we began to move. Though the wind was falling,
we could not attempt to avail ourselves of Maw’s cooking apparatus,
and we agreed to postpone breakfast till we should reach some more
sheltered spot. The vegetation here was little advanced, and we
saw but few plants in flower, save a little yellow Lithospermum
(_L. apulum_), on our way to the top of the pass, which was covered
with low brushwood and shrubs of the same species that we had seen
near Tangier.
We halted in a hollow place near the highest point, where we
strangely omitted to take observations for altitude; and after a
slight repast hurried down the slope in a SSE. direction, towards
the valley of the Tetuan river. We here enjoyed a fine view of
the snow-streaked mass of the Riff Mountains, which we may call,
from their best known peak, the Beni Hassan Group.
The mountain ranges of the Riff—extending for about 180 miles
from Tetuan to the mouth of the Oued Moulouya, which lies very
near the French frontier—undoubtedly form a part of the system of
the Lesser Atlas of Algeria; but, if we may trust the maps and such
scanty reports as can be picked up, they constitute a separate group,
not continuous with the coast range of Western Algeria. The true
relations between the main range of the Lesser Atlas of Algeria and
the diverging ranges of the Great Atlas that extend over the region
S. and SE. of Fez must remain unknown so long as the latter region
remains inaccessible to European travellers. The river Moulouya
and its eastern branch, the Oued Za, mark the existence of two
considerable valleys, and it is probable that the very sinuous
course laid down for both those streams in the French map may
be founded on native reports approximately correct; while it is
quite certain that the adjoining mountain ranges as shown on that
map differ very widely from the truth. A traveller going from Fez
to the mouth of the Oued Moulouya, in a direction slightly north
of due east, traverses a broad valley, with the Riff Mountains on
his left, lying between him and the Mediterranean coast, and the
northern branches of the Great Atlas on his right. Somewhere near
Theza he reaches the watershed between the region that is drained
towards the Atlantic through the Oued Sebou and the basin of the
Oued Moulouya, but seemingly without having to make any considerable
ascent. He descends to the Moulouya—or rather he would do so if
the powerful Halaf tribe, who hold that region, allowed strangers to
pass—where that river, after cutting its way through the unknown
region between the Great and Lesser Atlas, enters a wide plain, some
forty or fifty miles in extent each way. Before reaching the sea,
the valley is again narrowed. On one side is the eastern extremity
of the Riff Mountains, and on the other a range of lofty hills that
may be considered as spurs of the Lesser Atlas of Algeria.
Before quitting this dry subject, it is necessary to remark that,
even as regards the relatively well-known district near Tangier
and Tetuan, the best maps are far from complete accuracy. In the
French War Office Map—undoubtedly the best map of Marocco—the
hill shading gives far too much importance to the comparatively
low hills running from WSW. to ENE. on the south side of Tangier,
and not enough to the range which we crossed between El Fondak
and Tetuan. This extends from the main mass of the Beni Hassan to
Ape’s Hill opposite Gibraltar, and divides the waters running
to the Atlantic from those of the Tetuan river. Over against this
(which we had just crossed) rose a parallel and more lofty range,
terminating in the bold craggy mass of the Beni Hosmar (B. Aouzmar
of the French map), rising steeply from the valley opposite Tetuan,
and to ascend this was the main object of our present excursion.
Soon after we entered the main valley, and were riding along a broad
track parallel to the Tetuan river, we came upon a group that for the
first time brought home to us an illustration of the true condition
of society in this country. A body of armed horsemen, many of them
true Negroes or mulattoes, were resting beside the way, broken
up into lively groups, laughing and chattering together. Amongst
them was a solitary man, poorly clothed, and, as we observed,
laden with heavy chains. He kept his back turned towards the track,
and seemed to take advantage of the halt to dip his feet into the
brook that ran along beside it. So numerous an escort in charge of
a single prisoner suggested something unusual, and we were led to
make inquiry. According to the story retailed to us, the chained
captive was lately the powerful governor of a distant province,
who had offered a stout resistance when summoned to the capital
to give an account of his administration. It is well understood in
Marocco that such summons, whether framed as a peremptory order or a
flattering invitation, has but one meaning—that the time has come
when it seems to the Sultan or his counsellors that the wretched
governor should be ‘squeezed,’ or, in other words, be forced
by torture to surrender whatever wealth he may have hoarded. As the
appointment of a new governor generally means that the province will
be subjected to fresh impositions and extortions, the people are apt
to side with the old governor, and sometimes, in a country where
the central power is so feeble, a man, by a judicious combination
of force and bribery, may long keep the government at bay, and
escape the miserable fate that usually awaits him. Our prisoner,
apparently, was too formidable a man to be safely kept at Fez or
Marocco, and was therefore sent to Tetuan, the extreme limit of
the territory, there to undergo such torture as might be necessary
to extort confession of the hiding place of his treasure, unless,
through ill-judged obstinacy, he should die in torments before
disgorging as much as might be expected. No better illustration of
the system can be found than the fact that strangers are informed,
as of something extraordinary and unexampled, that one old man
now lives at Tetuan who long held a high and confidential post
in the government, and yet was allowed to retire without being
‘squeezed!’ The truth is, that he had gained the good-will
and confidence of the representatives of the European Powers,
and that it was urged upon the late Sultan that the credit of his
government would suffer, if, after a long course of faithful service,
the minister were to undergo the common fate of his colleagues.
Some twenty years before, when one of our party visited Tetuan,
the whole province was thrown into confusion by one of these
customary acts of the then reigning Sultan. Hash Hash, a man of
unusual capacity and energy, had governed the province of Tetuan
for many years with extraordinary success. He kept the turbulent
Riff mountaineers in order, and, so it was said, Jew and Christian,
under his rule, enjoyed the same security as the Moor. At length he
received messengers from the Court with the gift of a white horse
richly caparisoned, and an autograph letter from his sovereign full
of commendation and winding up with an invitation to the capital,
then fixed at Fez. He started on the fatal journey, but arrived only
to be flung into a dungeon and subjected to daily torture. Soldiers
were sent to Tetuan, where his house was pillaged, his wives and
children led to prison, while the absence of all control led to a
rapid growth of crime in the district, and life and property were
no longer thought safe in the surrounding country.
[Illustration:_J. B. delt._
TETUAN]
The approach to Tetuan presented the most picturesque scene that we
anywhere beheld in Marocco. Begirt with a lofty wall, set at short
intervals with massive square towers, the city shows from a distance
only a few mosques and a heavy, frowning heap of masonry that forms
the castle or citadel. It stands on the slope of a limestone hill,
some two hundred feet above the river, which flows through a broad
valley, rich with the most brilliant vegetation. After riding for
hours over the thirsty hills, it was a delight to rest the eyes
on the patches of emerald meadow, and on the darker green of the
luxuriant orchards, where the best oranges in the world grow along
with figs, almonds, peaches, and all our common tree fruit. Amidst
all this wealth of greenery many a little white house—a mere
cube of chalk—gleamed brightly. Most of these seem to belong
to peasant owners, but some are kiosks to which the wealthier
inhabitants repair to escape from the heat and bad air of the town.
We were not yet familiar with the squalor and neglect that seem
the inevitable characteristics of a Moorish town, and it was a
disappointment to find the interior of Tetuan correspond so ill to
the picturesqueness of its outward aspect. After riding between
high walls, apparently forming an inner defence to the town, we
went through some streets of mean aspect, and, traversing one wide
open space, passed under an interior gate guarded by a sentry, and
found ourselves in a labyrinth of narrow alleys decidedly cleaner
than the remainder of the city. This is the Jewish quarter, where,
as in the Jewry or _Ghetto_ of mediæval Europe, the children of
Israel are required to live apart, within a wall and gates that are
locked at night, and where they seem to manage their own affairs
with little interference from the Moorish authorities. We soon
established ourselves in very fair quarters at the house of Isaac
Nahum, who acts as clerk and interpreter at the single consulate
which of late years has watched over the safety of all Europeans
who happen to reach Tetuan whether by land or sea. Since the war
in which Tetuan was taken by the Spanish troops—their solitary
achievement during the last sixty years—the Government of Spain has
desired to maintain its influence in this part of the country by the
presence of a consul; and the other European States have willingly
taken advantage of his presence. The duties cannot be heavy, for
few strangers now visit Tetuan, although up to the year 1770 it was
the residence of all the European consuls. The beauty of its site,
the excellence of its oranges and other fruit, and the reported
superiority in refinement of its inhabitants, both Moorish and Jew,
do not compensate for the difficulty of access by sea, since none
but the smallest class of coasting vessels can cross the bar at the
mouth of the river. This is guarded (or was so up to the time of the
Spanish war in 1859) by a massive square tower, without door or other
apparent opening. A Christian boat from Gibraltar, in which one of us
had formerly arrived, was hailed from the summit of the tower. After
a preliminary parley, a rope ladder was let down from the top, some
seventy or eighty feet, and a black soldier scrambled down with great
activity, the final result of the parley being that the strangers,
after payment of some trifling harbour dues, were sent to the town,
a distance of five or six miles, under the escort of a soldier.
Whether because there really is some slight diminution in the feeling
that has so long excluded strangers, and especially Christians,
from the interior of Marocco, or that previous travellers had
happened to make the attempt at unfavourable conjunctures, we found
that the letter to the Governor given to us by Sir J. D. Hay was
scarcely required, and no difficulty was raised about the requisite
official permission to ascend the Beni Hosmar, as the mountain mass
is called, which forms the end of the chain extending northward
from the Beni Hassan.
One of our party had already succeeded in ascending about half
the height of the mountain; but the only European known to have
reached the upper ridge was the late Mr. Barker Webb, the author of
the ‘Phytographia Canariensis,’ and other important botanical
works. He effected his object by liberal expenditure, having begun
by a present of 40_l_. to the Governor, besides handsome rewards
to those who were sent with him.
We had no occasion to follow this example. The protection of the
British Government, and the interest shown in our journey by the
British Minister, were quite sufficient arguments on our behalf,
and with the courteous assistance of the Spanish consul the
arrangements for our excursion were soon settled. The requisite
orders were issued by the Kaïd, and two soldiers were appointed,
along with our Tangier men, to escort us on the following morning.
In spite of the usual delays, we started in good time on the morning
of the 11th, and, descending over successive ledges of tufa, forming
terraces for gardens and orchards, soon reached the level of the
river, which was easily forded. The air was cool (55° Fahr. at 6
A.M.), the sky bright, and the hedges gay with the evergreen rose
(_R. sempervirens_), and the large-flowered form of the hedge
convolvulus (_C. sylvatica_), which in the South replaces our more
modest Northern form, _C. sepium_ of Linnæus. A short ascent among
trees and high hedges took us clear of the cultivated land, and the
aspect of the country at once changed. The upper part of the mountain
is disposed in tiers of limestone crags, irregularly disposed, and
therefore offering no difficulty for the ascent; but round the base
are rather steep and very arid slopes, formed, in great part, of
old accumulations of débris fallen from the upper crags. The most
conspicuous shrubs are lentisk, oak scrub, _Juniperus phœnicea_,
and several _Cisti_; but the palmetto successfully contends against
its rivals, and in some places quite covers the soil. It disappears,
however, before one reaches the middle height of the mountain, and
the limit of its free growth, not taking account of a few scattered
and stunted specimens, was found to be 1,227 feet (374 mètres)
above the sea. The prevailing species, however, were small shrubby
_Leguminosæ_. Of these the most trying to the temper of the botanist
is _Calycotome villosa_. This and the allied species (_C. spinosa_)
are very common in the warmer parts of the Mediterranean region, and
the stiff spiny points of the numerous branches are most effective
in tearing the clothing and the skin of anyone who approaches them.
We followed a tolerably good cattle track which wound upwards to
the right, in a southerly direction, towards the upper part of the
mountain. Before reaching its middle height, on some crags facing
towards Tetuan, we found a peculiar saxifrage (_S. Maweana_),
first collected by Mr. Webb more than forty years before, but
which, with several others, remained unknown and undescribed in
his Herbarium. Maw refound the plant in 1869, and has successfully
cultivated it, along with many other Marocco rarities, in his garden
in Shropshire. On the same rocks, besides numerous interesting
plants not yet in flower, we gathered a curious crucifer (_Succowia
balearica_) which must flower very early as the fruit was already
approaching maturity.
As we really desired nothing more than to be let to wander about
on the mountain according to our own fancy, we were rather pleased
than otherwise when our escort of four soldiers with the guide,
seeming to think that they had done enough of mountaineering after
an ascent of some two thousand feet, proceeded to instal themselves,
with the horses, who enjoyed a day of rest, in a pleasant spot,
and showed no sign of pushing the enterprise farther. A steep
slope now led us up to the rocky ridge of the mountain commanding
a wide view, and overlooking a deep glen on the seaward side of
the mountain. Here, in spite of the early season, we found several
plants in flower that excited in us a lively interest. A little
polygala, with rich purple red flowers, reminds one much of the
red variety of _P. chamæbuxus_ that is often seen in the Eastern
Alps, but appears to be quite distinct. A chrysanthemum, differing
little from an Algerian species, was our first acquaintance amongst
a group of forms that is especially characteristic of the flora of
the Great Atlas. But we were, perhaps, still more pleased to find
on these heights, far removed from the nearest known station, some
descendants of a suffering race that must, at some remote period,
have been widely spread throughout Europe, the bright-flowered
_Ranunculus gramineus_. Although it is still found at several places
in France, in a few spots in the Alps, and in Spain, it appears to
have disappeared from the Apennines within the last two centuries,
and to be everywhere losing ground. When the rapacity of collectors
shall have reduced it elsewhere to the condition of a vegetable
Dodo, future travellers may rejoice that it has found a refuge in
this corner of Africa. The distribution of the genus _Ranunculus_,
in nearly every known country, supplies many topics for thought and
inquiry. There are very few regions where the unbotanical traveller
fails to recognise the familiar buttercup of his youth; yet, if he
examines the plants, he will find well-marked differences in the
leaves, the fruit, the stem, or the root, though the flowers may
be scarcely distinguishable. Since our first landing in Marocco,
buttercups had met us in all directions; but they nearly all
belonged to one variable species, _R. chærophyllos_, widely
spread round the warmer shores of the Mediterranean. In shady
places we had a few times gathered another North African species,
_R. macrophyllus_, and on this mountain we found a few specimens,
already past flower, of _R. spicatus_; but of all the common species
of Britain and Middle Europe, not one had been seen, unless we count
the ubiquitous white-flowered species of our ditches, _R. aquatilis_.
From the time we first got a clear view of our mountain we had
fixed on a range of beetling crags, not far below the summit, which
promised to afford an excellent habitat for rare plants. The promise
was kept, for we had scarcely approached their base when with joyful
cries we saluted one of the chief prizes of our excursion. From
clefts on the face of the rock hung great leafy tufts, quite a yard
in diameter, supported on stems as thick as a man’s arm. The
flowering branches produced an abundance of yellow flowers, then
just expanding and only partly opened. We should have set it down
as a new and very luxuriant species of wild cabbage, but that we
happened to know that the fruit is entirely different, so much so as
to constitute a very distinct genus of _Cruciferæ_. Mr. Webb, who
probably gathered the plant at this very spot, described and figured
it, in the ‘Annales des Sciences Naturelles,’ under the name
_Hemicrambe fruticulosa_; but the original specimen seems to have
been lost or mislaid, and no one had since laid eyes upon the living
plant. The same rocks produced abundantly the beautiful _Iberis
gibraltarica_, besides many fine plants not yet in flower, amongst
which we recognised the rare Spanish centaurea, _C. Clementei_.
As seen from Tetuan, the ridge above the rocks appeared to lead
very directly to the not distant summit of the mountain; but when,
after a short scramble, we had set foot upon it, we clearly saw
our mistake. At about a mile and a half from where we stood, and
separated from us by a rather profound depression, was another ridge,
some three or four hundred feet higher, which might or might not be
surpassed by more distant prominences in the same range. It would
have been easy to reach the farther summits, but we thought our
time better spent in carefully examining the part of the mountain
within our reach. Various indications, such as the disappearance
of several species that are abundant lower down, and the much more
backward state of the vegetation, went to prove that the climate
of the upper plateau is sensibly different from that of its middle
region; but there was little to show that we had reached the limit of
a true mountain, much less that of a subalpine flora. We had, indeed,
already found a variety of the large-flowered _Senecio Doronicum_,
which in the Alps and Pyrenees ascends even to the Alpine region;
and near our highest point Ball found a form of _Erodium petræum_,
which in the Pyrenees and Northern Spain usually attains the
subalpine zone. The season was still too little advanced; and the
naturalist who will follow our footsteps about the beginning of
June may expect a much richer harvest.
Having taken observations for altitude, which give height of about
3,040 feet above the sea for our station, we halted a few minutes
to enjoy the noble panorama that was spread out below us. On the
western side successive undulations of the ground—range beyond
range of low hills—melted away into the horizon, but as the eye
turned northward it rested on a more varied picture. To the right
of the Angera Mountains and Ape’s Hill a small dark islet seemed
to stand out from the Spanish coast. In this we scarcely recognised
Gibraltar, for the shadow of a cloud happened to rest on its grey
limestone cliffs. To the right extended a long reach of coast line,
foreshortened from the promontory of Ceuta to the mouth of the river
below Tetuan, with the much more distant outline of the Serrania
de Ronda in the background. Then as we turned eastward, though the
view was partly interrupted by projecting spurs of the mountain,
we followed the long outline of the coast range of North Marocco,
the secure refuge of the unconquered Riff tribes, whose fastnesses
have never been profaned by the presence of an alien master. Some
patches of dark shade evidently indicated forests, and these may
probably consist wholly or in part of the Atlantic cedar, although
that tree is not positively known to grow in Marocco.[3]
In order to cover as much ground as possible during the descent,
we here agreed to take different directions, and lost sight of each
other for some time. Hooker came upon a small mountain village,
or hamlet, where several Bereber or Riffian families were crowded
together in hovels built of mud mixed with stone, and rather
better fitted to resist the weather than the sheds we had seen
in the plain. Conversation was not practicable, but there was no
indication of ill will on the part of these people. The only attempt
at intercourse was on the part of one sturdy man who apparently
requested a pinch of snuff, but declined the offer of a cigar. The
use of tobacco for smoking appears to be unknown in Marocco, while
_kief_—prepared from the chopped leaves of common hemp—is almost
universally employed for that purpose both by Moors and Berebers;
but snuff is in general request, and is imported in considerable
quantities, both by regular traders and by smugglers who profit
largely by the heavy duty.
In descending the mountain we observed large patches of a species
of furze, smaller and stiffer in habit than our common gorse—the
_Ulex bæticus_ of Boissier—one of a group of nearly allied forms
that replace our British species in the south of Spain and Portugal,
and the neighbouring shores of Marocco.
On rejoining our so-called escort, we agreed that the track was too
steep to make riding pleasant; and thus we all descended on foot
till near the foot of the mountain, when a proper care for their
dignity compelled the soldiers and the guide to remount.
We returned to our quarters in the town before the sun had set, and
closed a very enjoyable day by reviewing our botanical prizes as
we laid them into paper to undergo the first step in the process
of their preservation. As usual the evening cigar accompanied
our discussion as to future proceedings, and to its soothing
influence we doubtless owe the fact that these debates always led
to a satisfactory conclusion. On this occasion we agreed to divide
our small party into two sections and separate for a few days. Maw
was anxious to return at once to Tangier, with a view to visit
some swamps that lie about ten miles south-west of the town, while
Hooker and Ball were desirous of examining the coast between Tetuan
and Ceuta. As it appeared that a small stock of Spanish would serve
all necessary purposes in the excursion to Ceuta, Maw volunteered
to take our disagreeable interpreter and one unnecessary soldier
back to Tangier, while Bulbo was willing to risk a visit to the
infidels at Ceuta.
On the morning of the 12th Maw departed, but Hooker was unwell. It
was decided that a quiet day and the judicious exhibition of
moderate doses of cognac, which we owed to the kindness of the
Spanish consul, would be the most appropriate treatment; and the
result was quite satisfactory.
Ball spent the day in botanising over the hills near the town,
and was well satisfied with the result. The rarest plant found was,
perhaps, a curious and very distinct fumitory (_Fumaria africana_
of Lamarck), which he had gathered nearly at the same spot twenty
years before. The red-flowered Polygala of Beni Hosmar (_P. Webbiana_
of Cosson) was seen in a few spots near the town along with _Arabis
pubescens_; and that singular plant, the _Drosophyllum_, hitherto
seen in Marocco only on the hills west of Tangier, was here found
within sight of the Mediterranean, growing along with _Helianthemum
umbellatum_ and several other less rare species of the Cistus tribe.
During our stay here we had a good opportunity of seeing something
of the life of the Marocco Jews, who form a distinct and important
element in the population of the empire. Tetuan has long been one
of the head-quarters of the Hebrew race. When most of the chief
Moorish families took refuge here after their expulsion from
Spain—and some are said still to preserve the keys of their
own houses in Granada—many Jews, flying from the faggots of the
Inquisition, preferred the comparative toleration of Moslem rule,
to the oppression and social disabilities that awaited them in
Christian Europe. It was more tolerable to submit to occasional
injustice and cruelty which was shared by all classes of society
around them than to be daily reminded that they formed a class
apart—the proper objects of general contempt and aversion. It
is true that until late years the Marocco Jew was exposed to some
vexatious regulations. He was required to put off his sandals on
passing the outside of a mosque, to wear a peculiar dress, and is
still confined to a separate quarter in each town. But in ordinary
intercourse between man and man the Jews of the coast towns seemed
to us to have attained a footing of almost complete equality, due as
well to their superior intelligence and commercial instinct, as to
the tolerance which affinity of race and creed has developed among
the people of Arab stock. In truth, the Moor feels that the Jew is
indispensable to him. In despite of his aversion to intercourse with
the Christian, trade, in which the Jew serves as intermediary, has
become a practical necessity, and it has procured for him foreign
luxuries which he is now little inclined to forego.
In point of fact, Tetuan boasts of being the cradle of more wealthy
Jewish families than any other town in the world; and among the
practical concessions enjoyed by them, there now appears to be no
difficulty in the way of Jews leaving the empire and returning
to it, and frequent intercourse is carried on between the city
and Europe by the way of Ceuta. The ceremonial observances of the
Mosaic law are strictly adhered to. The first question put to us
on our arrival was to know whether we had with us leavened bread,
as such could not be admitted to the house during the feast of the
Passover; and during our stay we were given cakes, some of plain
flour, others prepared with orange juice.
The houses are quite on the same plan as those of the Moors, or
in other words they merely differ in architectural detail from
the ancient type that is preserved for us in the smaller houses of
Pompeii. A single court (atrium) has several small rooms or closets
used for kitchen, offices, and sleeping place for servants, and
one large apartment, the chief living room of the family, filling
one side. This remains open to the court by day, but is closed at
night by a curtain. On the upper floor a gallery surrounds the court,
and into this open upper rooms of moderate size. In Nahum’s house
a second floor above the first had been added, but this appeared
to be an unusual arrangement. On our arrival we had been struck by
the superior neatness and cleanliness of the Jewish, as compared to
the Moorish, quarter, and the same remark applied to their persons.
No European traders appear to have settled at Tetuan, and such
trade as it possesses is in the hands of the Jews. Oranges, and
a sort of brandy, called Mahaya, distilled from the grape, are
the chief exports. The coarse pottery made here is much the same
as that produced in Algeria and throughout Western Marocco. Rude
geometrical patterns in ill-defined blue and green tints are usually
enriched by round spots of bright red, laid on with something like
sealing-wax over the glazing, and easily removed with spirit. The
only thing deserving notice as representing art-manufacture is the
gold embroidery, usually worked on silk or velvet. This is used for
curtains or hangings by some wealthy Moors, and for personal wear by
the Jewish women and children. At this festival season the younger
children frequently appeared with caps or diadems richly embroidered;
but the women more often wear a light silk handkerchief, with the
fringe hanging freely, but kept in its place by a fillet of black or
red velvet worked in gold, and forming a very ornamental head-dress.
Travellers have indulged in enthusiastic descriptions of the beauty
of the Marocco Jewesses. Those who have visited Tetuan will have seen
a fair specimen in the person of our host’s sister, a tall comely
girl, free from the tendency to corpulence which is too common, and
whose regular features are set off by a pair of fine dark eyes. But
those for whom expression is an essential element of beauty in the
human countenance will usually find something wanting to complete
the attractions of the undeniably handsome women of this country.
It so happened that the occasion was especially favourable for
seeing something of the life of the Israelite society of the
city. This was the last of the festival days of the Passover,
and towards evening there was a large gathering of neighbours in
the ground-floor apartments of our house. The women were richly
dressed in loose garments of light silk and a profusion of gold
embroidery. It was almost impossible to recognise our host’s
mother, a corpulent woman, who had hitherto appeared in a shabby
costume of the scantiest proportions in which the developments of
her ample person were unpleasantly apparent. Arrayed in festival
splendour, she now assumed a regal attitude, and her figure appeared
to be modelled on that of the nearest Christian potentate, the
unregretted Queen Isabella. The men wore long blue coats of the
dressing-gown pattern, with white cotton stockings and slippers, and,
if not picturesque in appearance, showed to advantage beside our
host who, mindful of his dignity as interpreter to the Consulate,
appeared in European black frock coat and trousers. The children
were especially gorgeous in head-dresses of crimson or purple
velvet richly embroidered in gold. During the evening there was an
attempt at dancing to the music of an accordion; but the space was
too limited, and this was speedily given up. The party continued,
however, till a late hour, and midnight passed before the sound of
lively talk and laughter ceased in the lower chambers of our house.
On the morning of April 13 we started for Ceuta, about thirty
miles distant from Tetuan. The track for several miles lies at some
distance from the coast, which on the north side of the mouth of
the river forms a projecting headland, called by the Spaniards Cabo
Negro. After riding through green lanes, we mounted gradually by
a broad path that winds amidst bushy hills for a couple of hours,
and then descended towards the sandy shore; and for the remainder of
the way kept close to the beach. After fording one or two smaller
streams issuing from the marshy pools that lay between us and
the hills on our left, we had a little trouble in crossing a more
considerable torrent that seems to bring down most of the drainage
of the Angera Mountains lying behind Ape’s Hill. The horses’
feet sank deeply in the yielding sand of the bed, though we were
able to wade across without difficulty. It was an anxious moment
for us as we watched the baggage mules struggling and floundering,
until the water rose very nearly to the precious packages of paper
that contained the fruits of our work since we left Tangier. Several
villages were seen on the slopes of the hills to our left, but
during the entire day we passed only three or four small houses.
Our day’s ride lay over the scene of the Spanish campaign in
Marocco in the winter of 1859-60—a military event so completely
eclipsed by the great wars that have since desolated many parts of
Europe, as to be now almost forgotten. An intelligent and animated
account of it was published by the late Mr. Hardman, who accompanied
the Spanish army as correspondent of the _Times_ newspaper. The
advance of O’Donnell, the Spanish commander-in-chief, was slow and
cautious; but considering the natural difficulties, and his complete
ignorance of the resources and designs of the enemy, any other course
would have been chargeable with rashness. The Moors, although at the
last they showed the utmost personal intrepidity, failed to display
the slightest military capacity—even such as has been found
among many savage tribes—failing to take advantage of natural
difficulties, and exposing themselves in fruitless and desultory
attacks when the Spanish force occupied strong positions. The most
serious difficulty for the Spanish general arose from the necessity
for moving his army along the narrow strip of shore, where for
several miles the ground between this and the stony hills of the
interior is partly covered by shallow lagoons, and the soft soil is
intersected by streams. An active enemy knowing the ground might have
inflicted heavy loss on the advancing force; but, contrary to all
expectation, the Moors scarcely showed themselves at the critical
moment, and the Spaniards had none but the natural obstacles to
contend with. After crossing the pass over which the ordinary track
runs to Tetuan, the Spaniards marched to the left, and established
themselves in an entrenched camp near the mouth of the Tetuan river,
where they received by sea reinforcements in men, heavy guns, and
provisions. After some delay, a brilliant action, terminated by
the storming of their camp near Tetuan, cowed the Moorish leaders,
and the Spanish occupied the city, but only after it had been sacked
by the irregular forces of the retreating army. The Moors then sued
for peace; but whether the negotiations were merely opened to gain
time, or that the terms demanded by Spain, including the permanent
cession of Tetuan, were deemed exorbitant, hostilities were resumed
in March, and the Spanish army commenced to move towards Tangier. A
final effort was made by the Moors; and in the battle which ensued,
on the slopes of the hills by which we descended a few days ago
into the valley of Tetuan, their men, though fighting against
nearly 25,000 regular troops, well provided with artillery, seemed
for a moment likely to win the day by sheer desperate valour. The
victory cost the Spaniards some 1,300 men in killed and wounded,
but achieved the object of the campaign. Guided by wiser counsels,
the Spanish Government ceased to insist on the permanent occupation
of Tetuan, and the city was restored to the Moors, on the payment
of a war indemnity of about 4,000,000_l_. sterling. In the judgment
of impartial foreign critics, the Spanish troops behaved extremely
well throughout this campaign: when well led they showed no lack
of fighting qualities, and to their patience under hardship, their
temperance, and general good conduct, all observers bore testimony.
One result of the war was to increase the customs’ duties
throughout Marocco, and to cause more strenuous efforts to keep
down contraband trade than had ever been used before. The indemnity
was partly provided by a five per cent. loan, raised in London;
and the customs duties supply the means for paying the interest,
with instalments of the principal. These have been so punctually
discharged, that the stock usually stands at par. On the Atlantic
sea-board the points accessible to sea-going ships are so few
that little smuggling can exist. The long strip of Mediterranean
coast between Tetuan and the French frontier is nearly all held
by the semi-independent tribes of the Riff mountaineers, and it
may be presumed that these pay no duties on the few articles of
foreign produce that they consume; but the southern shore of the
Straits of Gibraltar and the coast between Ceuta and Tetuan are
easy of access in fine weather, and here the Moorish authorities
are obliged to maintain a force of coast-guards. We met several
wild-looking fellows, who became more frequent as we approached
the Spanish lines before Ceuta, each scantily clothed and armed
with a long gun. They must suffer much in cold and rainy weather,
as they have no other protection than a slight screen of branches,
interlaced with straw or reeds.
Ceuta stands upon a narrow promontory that forms the eastern
extremity of a spur projecting from the high range of Ape’s
Hill. As this promontory is only the last in a series of conical
summits that gradually diminish in height as they approach the
Mediterranean, the fortress is completely commanded on the land
side. But the Spaniards have erected small forts on the nearer
heights, and with moderate watchfulness are secure enough from
any assault that could be made by the Moors. As we rode over the
neck of land connecting the fortress with the adjoining hills,
and finally approached the only entrance, which is reached by a
succession of gates and drawbridges, we had leisure to admire the
elaborate character of the defences, in which every known resource
of military engineering, as understood at the beginning of the last
century, seems to have been accumulated. The soul of Uncle Toby would
have delighted in the multiplication of ditches, curtains, ravelins,
demi-lunes, hornworks, and palisades that have been expended here for
the purpose of astonishing the untutored mind of the ignorant Moor.
The little town that forms the kernel of these vast fortifications
far surpassed our expectations. Say what we will, there is a vast
gap between the condition of the least advanced countries of Europe
and the barbarism from which no Mohammedan State has yet contrived
to raise itself. Ceuta, however, is a very favourable sample of
a Spanish town, and is far superior in aspect to most places of
equal importance in the mother-country. The well-built houses in
the main street, all dazzling with fresh whitewash, were gay with
bright flowers that stood in pots and boxes on the balconies behind
ironwork of elaborately ornate character, and the inhabitants had
an air of activity and animation not common in Spain, anywhere out
of Catalonia. We drew our bridles at the Fonda Italiana, the best
looking of several inns, where we learned that all the bedrooms
were occupied, and were sent for sleeping quarters to a neighbouring
house. We got a large room with two good beds, and found everything
both there and at the inn, where we were well fed, scrupulously
clean. Our remark, which probably would not have been approved
in Downing Street, was, ‘What a pity, when they were about it,
that the Spaniards did not annex the whole of North Marocco!’
The course of events in Spain during the last six or eight years
has gone far to justify Downing Street, and to show that European
anarchy may be even worse than Moorish misgovernment.
As, in accordance with our daily custom, we reviewed the produce
of our day’s botanising, before committing our plants to paper,
it seemed to fall rather short of our expectations. The season was
not yet advanced enough for many seaside species, and, besides, as
every naturalist knows, one’s power of observation on horseback
is comparatively limited. When the eye is carried forward by an
external agency, and its motion is not altogether regulated by
the will, many minute objects are too imperfectly seen to convey
a definite image; and however often one may dismount, many slight
suggestions that would be tested by one on foot are allowed to pass
without verification. Along with most of the shrubs that we had seen
about Tangier, we passed many small trees of _Tamarix africana_ and
stout bushes of _Juniperus phœnicea_. The most ornamental plant that
we gathered was _Phaca bætica_, with fine purplish blue flowers,
very unlike any of the forms of the same genus with which we were
familiar in the Alps. The most interesting plant, in a scientific
sense, that we found this day was so minute as to be altogether
overlooked at the time; and it was only some time after our return
to England that two minute specimens (less than an inch in height)
were found engaged in a tuft of some stouter plant. They belong to
a little crucifer, called _Malcolmia nana_. It has been found in a
few spots scattered at wide intervals throughout the Mediterranean
region, and as far eastward as the shores of the Caspian Sea.
At Ceuta we had the spectacle—always a painful one—of gangs of
convicts chained together, and working under the charge of soldiers,
which meets the eye in so many parts of Southern Europe. Difficult
as is the subject of penal discipline for criminals, it may safely
be said that this is one of the worst—if not the very worst—
system that has ever been devised. The punishment, however hard,
loses through familiarity most of its deterrent effect; while,
far from reforming, it seems to be the most efficient method known
for finally corrupting the less hardened offender. The objections
are somewhat lessened when the convict station is removed from the
general gaze, and where the prisoners have little hope and even
little temptation to escape.
These conditions are satisfied in the three fortified posts which,
besides Ceuta, the Spaniards hold on the coast of Marocco. The most
considerable of these is Melilla, on a promontory a few miles south
of Cape Tres Forcas, said to be a strong fort, but grievously damaged
by an earthquake in 1848. It must be little better than a prison for
the garrison as well as for the convicts, if it be true, as we were
told, that it is considered unsafe to venture beyond musket-shot from
the walls, and the Riff mountaineers amuse themselves from time to
time by taking pot-shots at the sentries on the ramparts. The other
posts are on rocky islets near the shore. El Peñon de Velez, also
called Velez de Gomera, is about half-way between Ceuta and Melilla,
and only about eight miles from the site of the Carthaginian city
of Bedis—Belis of the Arabs—whence some etymologists derive
the Spanish Velez. From the rank of an episcopal city in early
Christian times, Bedis fell into bad repute as a pirate port, until
it was taken and destroyed by the Spaniards. The third Spanish
post is on the larger of the Zaffarine Islands, that rise from
the Mediterranean nearly opposite the mouth of the Oued Moulouya,
not far from the French frontier. To judge from a small packet of
plants collected there by Mr. Webb, the only scientific traveller
known to have visited them, these are mere barren rocks, affording
no shelter to any but the common seaside species.
Of late years the Riff people have kept to their mountain fastnesses,
and piracy is no longer an habitual occupation; but it would not
be safe to suppose that it has been completely extinguished. The
coast has many inlets and creeks that shelter fishing boats,
which may easily be used for cutting out unarmed merchantmen when
becalmed near the coast. As late as 1855 two or three cases of that
nature were reported to the home authorities by the Governor of
Gibraltar: and as pursuit was out of the question, and the Moorish
Government owns no control over the Riff population, no redress
was obtainable. The increasing use of steam has probably made the
occupation tedious and unprofitable.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: From this Moorish word the Spaniards have taken _Fonda_,
the common designation for an inn of the better class; while it is
more accurately preserved in the Venetian _Fondaco_—e.g. Fondaco
dei Turchi, &c.]
[Footnote 2: These sandhills were revisited by one of our party in
the month of June, and then supplied many interesting plants not
seen during our first stay at Tangier.]
[Footnote 3: In the Herbarium of the late Mr. Webb, now in the Museum
at Florence, the plants gathered by him during his short expedition
to Marocco are preserved as a separate collection. Amongst these
are some fragments of the Atlantic cedar, which would appear from
the accompanying label to have been obtained by him at Tetuan from
some native of the Riff Mountains. It is probable that the same tree
may be widely spread throughout the unexplored mountain districts of
North-eastern Marocco. Gerhard Rohlfs, the only European who is known
to have traversed the high mountain region S. of Fez, describing the
fine valleys inhabited by the powerful tribe of the Beni M’ghill,
says that the prevailing trees were larches of greater dimensions
than he had ever seen elsewhere. He declares that he measured several
stems from three to four metres in girth, and that such were not
uncommon. It is in the highest degree improbable that the larch,
which in Europe finds its southern limit in the Pyrenees, should
extend to Marocco; and, as Mr. Rohlfs has no knowledge of botany,
it is most likely that the tree which called forth his admiration
is the Atlantic cedar.]
CHAPTER III.
Sail to Algeciras — Vegetation of the neighbouring hills —
Comparison between the opposite sides of the Strait of Gibraltar
— Return to Tangier — Troubles of a botanist — Fez pottery
— Voyage in French steamer — Rabat and Sallee — Land at Casa
Blanca — Vegetation of the neighbourhood — Humidity of the
coast climate — Mazagan — View of Saffi.
With the previous permission of the Commandant, we sailed from
Ceuta in the Government felucca on the morning of the 15th, and
had a pleasant run before a south-west breeze, which took us before
noon to Algeciras. Our intention had been to return the same day to
Tangier, but we found that the ordinary steamer had been taken up to
carry sight-seers to a bull-fight at Seville. Resigning ourselves
to the delay, we found fair accommodation in an inn upon the quay,
and started for a walk over the wooded hills behind the town, not
sorry to have an opportunity of comparing the vegetation of the
opposite shores at this point where Europe and Africa so nearly meet.
The general aspect of the floras is nearly identical, but
there is enough of difference to show that for a long period a
barrier has existed sufficient to limit the diffusion of many
characteristic species. Of these we found three on the hill near
Algeciras—_Rhododendron ponticum_, _Sibthorpia europæa_, and
_Helianthemum lasianthum_, a fine species with large yellow flowers,
approaching a Cistus in stature and habit. A much longer list of
European plants that have not passed into Africa might be made if
all the known species found between Gibraltar and Trafalgar were
taken into account; but it might with some reason be objected, that
our knowledge of the African side of the Strait is too incomplete
to speak confidently on this point. On the other hand, however, we
may with some certainty assert that comparatively many well-marked
species found on the southern side of the Strait are limited to the
African shore, and have not been able to spread into Europe. From
the accessible materials we find at least thirty-eight species
belonging to this category, of which the large majority are species
spread over a wide area in Northern Africa.
In attempting to draw inferences from these facts, it is necessary
to bear in mind that the region where they occur—the southern part
of the Iberian peninsula, and the opposite corner of Marocco—is
remarkable for the variety of its flora, and for the large number
of distinct species, each inhabiting a very restricted area. To
those who suppose that the presence of numerous plants in two
neighbouring districts, which are limited to one or the other,
but are not common to both, is to be regarded as evidence for the
existence of a physical barrier between them, an objector might
reply that we have no more right to affirm that it is the prolonged
existence of the Strait between Europe and Africa that has prevented
the extension of so many species from one continent to the other,
than we have to maintain that two neighbouring mountain groups,
such as the Sierra Nevada of Granada and the Serrania de Ronda,
each possessing a number of peculiar species, must have been
formerly isolated by the sea, as otherwise the species would have
been intermixed.
In answer to this objection, it may, with some plausibility, be
urged that a large majority of the species with restricted areas
are mountain plants; that there is much reason to believe that most
of these peculiar species did originate within insulated areas,
at a time when these were separated by the sea from neighbouring
masses, where the conditions of life for each organism must have been
somewhat different; and that in a few instances local peculiarities
of soil, either chemical or mechanical, may explain the fact that
a particular species is limited to a very small district. These
considerations do not, however, fully explain the known facts
regarding some regions of the earth possessing an exceptional number
of peculiar species confined to small areas, the most remarkable
of which are Asia Minor, South Africa, South-western Australia,
and that which we are now discussing; and in weighing the evidence
afforded by the floras of the opposite coasts as bearing on the
probable duration of such a barrier as the Strait of Gibraltar, it
is best to leave out of account all species that are not known to
be widely distributed. Here our very limited knowledge of the flora
of North Marocco opposes a considerable difficulty. Subject to such
light as future observation will throw upon the subject, it may be
said that, so far as mere botanical evidence goes, we should infer
that the barrier was not present at the time when the great majority
of the existing plants spread into this region; but that it has been
established long enough to oppose a limit to the further diffusion
of many species that otherwise would, in all probability, be found
on both sides of the Strait, thus indicating a period geologically
recent, but very ancient as compared with the historic record.
On the following morning we crossed the bay to Gibraltar, and,
still finding no means of conveyance to Tangier, endeavoured to
console ourselves by botanising on the ‘Rock.’ Later in the
day the impatience natural to the British traveller induced us to
open negotiations for the hire of one of the numerous tug steamers
that make handsome profits by helping becalmed ships through the
Strait. The first demand of one hundred dollars helped to moderate
our ardour; and, though the more reasonable sum of forty-five dollars
was afterwards named by another merchant, we finally decided to
remain a second night in Europe, and await the ordinary steamer on
the following day.
It is well known that all the rules which prevent unauthorised
persons from prying into the arcana of a fortress are strictly
enforced at Gibraltar; and on this account a naturalist wishing to
explore the rock should always apply for the previous permission
of the Governor. Not intending to remain more than a few hours,
we had declined the hospitable invitation of Sir W. F. Williams,
and not thought of obtaining an order to authorise our unrestricted
rambling over the rock. Towards evening Ball had started with
his tin box to examine the steep eastern face that looks towards
the Mediterranean. While scrambling about in search of plants, he
became aware that his movements were watched by two Irish soldiers,
both decidedly the worse for liquor, and as he returned towards
the path the word ‘spy’ was emphatically pronounced more than
once. Anticipating any further unpleasant remarks, he addressed them
some ordinary question, with a fair infusion of that national accent
that is unmistakable to the Hibernian ear. The effect was immediate:
the men were delighted to recognise a countryman; question and
answer rapidly succeeded, and the only difficulty was to resist
their pressing invitation to adjourn to a neighbouring wine-shop,
where the poor fellows’ remaining intelligence would have been
finally quenched in the compound of grape-juice and ardent spirits
that is sold at Gibraltar as Spanish wine—not much worse, perhaps,
than the mixture that is drunk at home by not a few persons boasting
a refined taste under the name of pale sherry.
It seems natural to ask whether it is or is not true, as one is often
assured, that correct plans of all the chief fortresses in Europe
are to be found in the War Office of each of the chief States;
for in such case the attempt to maintain secrecy as against the
ignorant curiosity of travellers seems to be a puerile occupation
for the military authorities in command.
The rock of Gibraltar and the sandy tract called the Neutral Ground
produce many rare and interesting-plants; but these are already
well known to botanists, being separately described in Kelaart’s
_Flora Calpensis_, and further illustrated in a work of first-rate
authority, Boissier’s _Voyage Botanique en Espagne_. The only
tree that seems to prosper thoroughly on this barren sun-baked
headland is the Chinese _Phytolacca arborea_, which was planted
some fifty or sixty years ago in the Alameda and elsewhere, many
of which have attained a great thickness. They remind one of the
stunted clustered columns of some mediæval churches, each of the
very numerous branches developing a projecting cylinder of woody
trunk covered with grey bark.
The so-called Club House, which ranks as the head inn, being
already full, we put up at the Fonda Española, and had no cause
for complaint, either as to food or accommodation. On the morning
of the 17th we had notice that the steamer for Tangier was to start
at noon; and, after laying in additional stores of drying paper,
and enjoying a delightful morning stroll along the road to Europa
Point, we were ready at the appointed time.
After more than the usual delay, we at length set our faces towards
the African shore with a fresh SW. breeze in our faces. Few places
in the world can show a greater variety of fine atmospheric effects
than the Strait of Hercules. To-day the horizon behind us was clear,
while the hills that bound the entrance from the Atlantic were veiled
in thin haze; and, as the sun sank low, a strange purple hue suffused
one-half of the sky. The skipper managed to arrive late in the roads
at Tangier, and we found that, although a bribe to the official of
the port might obtain admission within the walls, our baggage could
not be landed until the following morning. We therefore decided to
sleep on board the little steamer, and at length, on the morning
of the 18th, we returned to breakfast at the Victoria Hotel.
Maw had made good use of his time. In a first excursion to the
‘Lakes’ he had failed to find a beautiful iris, which we had
first admired on Sir J. D. Hay’s dinner-table, and which we
had taken to be the _Iris tingitana_ of Boissier and Reuter. Not
easily foiled from his purpose, Maw returned two days later, and
succeeded in his object. Subsequent examination has convinced us
that the plant growing near the lakes is a luxuriant form of the
_Iris filifolia_ of Southern Spain, though intermediate between that
and _I. tingitana_. The latter may perhaps be an extreme form of the
same plant, but is yet little known, and had not, as far as we know,
been brought into cultivation until carried to England by Maw. Our
plant, which is one of the most beautiful of a beautiful group,
is figured, under the name _Xyphion tingitanum_, in the 98th volume
of the ‘Botanical Magazine,’ No. 5981. Nothing can surpass in
the scale of rich sombre decoration the gradations of dark purple
and brown velvet that enrich the petals.
One of the troubles that most try the patience of a botanical
traveller here awaited us. As we had already assured ourselves,
the spring climate of North Marocco is delightful to the human
frame. The sky had been clear, the air warm, and only one or two
slight showers of rain had fallen since we first landed on the coast;
but the breezes, whether they travel eastward from the Atlantic,
or westward from the Mediterranean, are laden with aqueous vapour
nearly to the point of saturation, and nothing dries spontaneously
by mere exposure to the air. Although our system of drying our
plants by ventilating gratings makes it quite unnecessary to change
the paper in such a climate as that of the Alps, or most parts
of Europe, we now found that all the collections left at Tangier
were suffering from damp, many specimens covered with mildew, and
some hopelessly destroyed. Many hours on this and the following
day were consumed in the endeavour to remedy the mischief. So far
as structure is concerned, damp, when not too long continued, does
not disorganise the tissues; but it finally removes the remaining
freshness of colour which makes the beauty of a well-dried specimen.
In the course of the day we made some purchases of Fez pottery,
of which a large store is kept by a Jew dealer. This ware, which
combines elegance and variety of form with vigorous geometrical
designs and rough execution, is now well known to the devotees of the
prevailing fancy for ceramics, who pay in London or Paris many times
over the original price. Through the kindness of the British Consul,
Mr. White, we obtained some small specimens of a very scarce variety
of unglazed pottery, of which the decoration consists merely in
dots of black and red, forming various patterns. These were said
to be the handywork of two potters of Fez, who both died during
the last cholera epidemic.
During our seven days’ absence from Tangier, the vegetation
had advanced very rapidly, and many plants had come into flower
during the interval; so that we found abundant occupation, even in
the immediate neighbourhood of the town. If we had wanted further
evidence as to the character of the climate, it was afforded by
the fact of our finding the British royal fern (_Osmunda regalis_),
on bare sandstone rocks, close to the sea. In our proverbially damp
climate it requires boggy or marshy soil to grow freely; but then,
in spite of proverbs, we have fits of dry weather during the spring,
and every now and then prolonged summer droughts, that forbid
delicate ferns to flourish in exposed situations.
Early on the morning of the 20th we were awakened by the news that
the long expected French steamer, _Vérité_, of Marseilles, had
arrived, and would depart in the afternoon on her voyage to the
Atlantic ports of Marocco and the Canary Islands. We were fully
prepared to depart; the expected autograph letter of the Sultan
had been delivered to Sir J. D. Hay, and by him to Hooker; our
heavy baggage had already been forwarded to Mogador, and we lost
no time in completing our preparations, and bidding farewell to
those whose kindness and hospitality had made our stay at Tangier so
agreeable. In quitting Martin’s Hotel, the solitary inconvenience
that we could call to mind was the swarms of flies that invade
the rooms, not more abundant, however, than in many valleys of
Switzerland and North Italy; and we carried away from Tangier the
impression that even on the Mediterranean shores there are few
spots that combine such advantages of climate, natural beauty,
and material comfort.
We found the _Vérité_, though boasting a French name, to be a
nearly new Clyde-built steamer, owned by a Marseilles Company and
commanded by Captain Abeille of that port, far better fitted up than
most of those that ply along this coast. The passengers were few,
and, as these disembarked at the intermediate ports, we at last
became the sole occupants of the state cabin. On a fine evening,
with the gentle heaving of the broad Atlantic billows to tune all
to harmony, we passed the headland of Cape Spartel, and received
the first rays of the great lanthorn as they shot out seaward when
lighted for the night.
At seven o’clock next morning the engines were stopped, and going
on deck we found ourselves lying some way off the shore, opposite
the mouth of the river Oued Bouregrag, that divides Sallee from
Rabat. The latter, as seen from a distance, is a place of somewhat
imposing appearance. The chief mosque has a great square tower,
rivalling those of Seville and Marocco; and a pile of modern masonry,
on a scale unknown elsewhere in modern days in this country, marks
the large barrack where the Sultan’s body-guard is lodged when
he pays his annual visit to the coast. Carpets are made here, and
also a peculiar sort of unglazed pottery, coarse in texture, but
admirable in form, and singular in ornamentation.[1] Over against
Rabat, on the north side of the river, is Sallee, once a famous
place, the last outpost of Roman civilisation, and afterwards the
home of pirates who were dreaded throughout the Mediterranean and
along the coasts of France and England. Looking at the bare coast,
and the paltry groups of mud boxes that make up a Moorish town,
and knowing that the bar at the river’s mouth allows, except at
spring tide, the passage only of ships of small tonnage, it seemed
scarcely credible that the European Powers should so long have
allowed such a nest of hornets to flourish at their very gates. When
one reads that up to the middle of the last century it was not a very
rare thing for the ‘Sallee rovers’ to lie under Lundy Island,
and cut out Bristol merchantmen, one asks what the British navy was
about, that the malefactors and their ships were not swept from the
sea, and Sallee itself utterly destroyed. The false humanity that
caused in our time such bitter lamentations over the chastisement
of Bornean pirates had not been yet invented.
We lay for the greater part of the day within some two or three
miles of the shore, but the Atlantic rollers were too heavy to
allow a nearer approach, or permit the landing of cargo. This
happens too frequently to excite remark; and these great waves,
originating in the passage of cyclones in the mid-Atlantic, often
arrive so suddenly in the calmest weather as to create a serious
danger for the seaman. At the least it is prudent to keep up a
sufficient pressure of steam in the boiler to make it easy to gain
the offing on the shortest notice; and we heard of several cases
where the coast steamers had called in succession at all the Atlantic
ports of Marocco without being able to communicate with any one of
them, and cargo and passengers had been carried on to the Canary
Islands with the uncertain prospect of being landed on the return
voyage. Fogs offer another serious impediment to navigation on this
coast. During the summer the low country for a distance of eight or
ten miles from the shore is not rarely covered during the morning
with a thick mist that clears away before mid-day. At such times
ships dare not approach the sandy coasts, and, when the sky clears,
the scarcity of landmarks makes it extremely difficult for the seaman
to ascertain his exact position. As the same difficulty prevented us
from touching Rabat on our return voyage, we can add nothing to what
has been told by preceding travellers. Counting Sallee as a suburb of
the larger town, the population is estimated at 40,000, or more than
all the other Atlantic ports put together. The inhabitants are said
to suffer from three scourges—prolonged droughts, the invasion of
locusts, and, worst of all, the annual visits of the Sultan, whose
body-guard of several thousand soldiers has to be fed at their cost.
To the naturalist a stay of some days at Rabat might be of great
interest if he were able to accomplish a visit to the famous forest
of Mamora, which fills a large part of the space, some twenty miles
in width, between the mouth of the Bouregrag and the larger river
Sebou that carries to the sea the drainage of the high mountains near
Fez. The scene of most of the wonderful tales that circulate among
the people of North Marocco—adventures with lions, robbers, and
other wild animals—is laid in the forest of Mamora; but excepting
one solitary plant, brought thence by the Abbé Durand—a very
distinct species of _Celsia_—nothing is known of the fauna and
flora of the forests of this part of Marocco. These appear to cover
a considerable tract parallel to the Atlantic coast, and probably
consist mainly of the cork oak, which in any other country might
become a considerable source of profit. Eastward of the forest the
country south of the Oued Sebou is a marshy tract, breeding endemic
fevers that are said to extend to Sallee and Rabat.
In the afternoon the swell became more moderate, and a boat came
out with passengers, including the family of Mr. Dupuis, the British
Vice-Consul at Casa Blanca. It was decided that it would not be safe
to land cargo, so the captain resolved to start without further delay
and run for Casa Blanca—the Dar el-Beïda of the Moors. The sun
had set, and night was closing in as we approached the low shore,
where a few white houses mark a station which has risen to some
little importance owing to the preference shown for it by French
merchants, who carry on a considerable trade with the interior.
We accepted a courteous invitation from Mr. and Madame Dupuis, and,
landing early on the morning of the 22nd, went to breakfast at their
house. A less attractive spot than Casa Blanca it is difficult
to imagine. A featureless coast of low shelves of red sandstone
rock overlaid by stiff clay, stretches on either side in slight
undulations, nowhere rising more than a couple of hundred feet
above the sea. Not a tree gives variety to the outline or shelter
from the blazing sun. The attempts made by the few residents to
cultivate the orange and other useful trees have met with little
success; and the eye seeks in vain the gay shrubs that adorn the
southern shores of the Mediterranean. The Cistuses, Genistas,
heaths, Arbutus, and myrtle, as well as the more sober prickly oak
and laurel, are all absent, and the arborescent vegetation is almost
limited to stunted bushes of lentisk some three or four feet high.
As we strolled for several hours over the surrounding country,
we at once perceived the influence of new climatal conditions. It
was not that many new species marked the passage from one botanical
province to another, for to our disappointment we found very few
that we had not already gathered in North Marocco, and, excepting
one rare _Celsia_, none that were not already well known. As
elsewhere, _Leguminosæ_ were predominant, and especially trefoils
and medicks; grasses were both numerous and varied in species;
and _Umbelliferæ_ were represented by many conspicuous plants, of
which _Ferula communis_, growing to a height of ten or more feet,
is especially notable. In the absence of more substantial materials,
the thick stems are used for fences. The contrast offered by the
vegetation of this coast with that of the Mediterranean shores is
caused altogether by climatal conditions, which allow one set of
species to flourish while the rest are more or less rigidly excluded.
The information received from our obliging hosts respecting the
country and the native population agreed well enough with what we
heard elsewhere. The prejudices of the natives are not so strong
as to make them indifferent to the advantages of trade with
the intrusive Christians who are settled on the coast; and the
unfortunate issue of the last war with Spain has taught them the
prudence of avoiding wanton provocation. Whatever may be the case
with the tribes farther inland, the people of the coast provinces
are quite disposed for commercial intercourse; but the jealousy
of the authorities makes enterprise of all kinds too unsafe to be
risked by an ordinary native of the country. Some of the provincial
governors who live near the coast carry on trade with European
merchants; but for the rest such business as exists is in the hands
of the Jews. The only interference of the Government, which is at
least ostensibly dictated by a regard for the welfare of the people,
relates to the corn trade. In favourable years Marocco produces much
more grain than the population can consume, but drought and locusts
often destroy the crops throughout large districts. The permission
to export corn is therefore given or withheld by sovereign order
according to the reports received at head-quarters. It is needless
to point out how much the uncertainty thus produced must interfere
with the profits of cultivation.
At Casa Blanca our skipper took on board a considerable quantity of
maize for the Canary Islands, and a good many bales of hides and
wool for Marseilles; and we found the decks in some disorder when
we returned on board our steamer in the evening. All next day—the
23rd—we remained in the roads of Casa Blanca, uncertain at what
moment we should continue our voyage. The time did not hang heavily
on our hands, for we had as much work as we could accomplish in
getting our collections into tolerably good order. We here had to
deal with an enemy that was new to all of us, excepting Hooker, and
which for the next week was to cause more trouble and anxiety than
any one not a naturalist can easily realise. Nothing is more common
with us at home than to grumble at the dampness of the climate;
and, as far as the effects on the human animal are concerned,
our complaints are perfectly just. Air at 50° Fahr. cannot at
the utmost carry more than about 4½ grains of aqueous vapour to
the cubic foot; but at that temperature it produces, when nearly
saturated, that feeling on the nerves of the skin, familiar to every
inhabitant of these islands, which is the ordinary forerunner of
colds, sore throats, rheumatism, and many another ailment. But the
botanist, to whom the condition of his drying paper is even more
important than that of his own body, finds an easy remedy for the
inconvenience. By exposing his damp paper to a temperature of from
80° to 90° in the sunshine, or before a fire, he readily obtains a
satisfactory degree of relative dryness, and in a very few days his
specimens are in a state to put away, and with ordinary care need
give him no further trouble. But the case is very different where
the ordinary temperature of the air in the shade is about 75°, as
was the case here, not to speak of 85° which is the common limit
in the tropics. To the human body there is nothing unpleasant in
the effects of such air when nearly saturated with vapour, and so
long as the temperature remains habitually between 70° and 80° it
is decidedly favourable to health, if not to vigorous exertion. But
a cubic foot of air at 77° contains nearly 10½ grains of vapour,
and when at all near to the point of saturation it has no perceptible
drying effect on surrounding objects, and a moderate increase of 10°
or 12° Fahr. in temperature has but a slight effect in increasing
its desiccating power. We were first struck by remarking the very
long time required to dry the decks as compared with what is usual
in the Mediterranean, and we had still more painful experience of
the difficulty of drying our paper. We were now the sole occupants
of the saloon, and our captain left us free to use every part of the
steamer; the deck was soon turned to account, cords were stretched
across the rigging, even the neighbourhood of the boiler was invaded,
but with indifferent success. Few readers may care to sympathise with
the distress of a naturalist who looks on his specimens, not only
as scientific documents bringing some additions to our knowledge of
the structure and relations of the organised world, but as things
of beauty giving delight to the senses of form and colour, when,
after much pains and care, he finds the flowers change their hues
and drop off, the leaves turn black, and when mould, the sure sign
of decomposition, begins to encrust the stems and fruits.
At 1 A.M. on the morning of the 24th we were again under steam, and
soon after daylight speed was slackened as we lay off Mazagan. The
abruptness of the transition from deep blue water in the offing to a
somewhat milky green where the ship gets into shallower water here
attracted our notice. It is of common occurrence even on coasts
where there is reason to believe that the bed of the sea shelves
vary gradually away from the shore, and one might expect a gradual
change of tint; but no satisfactory explanation occurred to us.[2]
It was some time before the land came in sight, and we were able
to make out the square tower of the Portuguese fort that marks
the position of Mazagan. The town stands on a slightly projecting
point of land facing northward, and therefore especially exposed
to the north-east breeze that prevails throughout the spring and
summer. We lay all day rolling heavily, and the surf, breaking
in hills of foam upon the shore, was too high to allow of the
landing of cargo; but in the afternoon a small boat put off with
provisions. Amongst these was a large freshwater fish, a species
of shad, that had been caught in the Oued Oum-er-bia which runs
into the sea some five miles east of Mazagan close to the site of
Azemour, a ruined town once of some importance. The freshwater fish
of the streams from the Atlas may probably offer many objects of
interest to the ichthyologist, but do not seem likely to add much
to the resources of the cook. We were told that the fine-looking
animal which was displayed at table is considered a delicacy; but
we found the flesh insipid and cottony, and during our subsequent
journey we failed to find any fish worth eating.
Neither on this occasion nor on our return did we see any trace
of the ruins of Azemour or of the great river Oum-er-bia. This is
apparently the chief stream of Marocco. It drains the northern
declivity of the chain of the Great Atlas for a distance of 150
miles, and nearly the entire of the extensive mountainous region, a
still unknown network of high ridges and deep valleys, that covers
nearly half the space between the main chain and the Atlantic
seaboard. Like all the other rivers of this country the volume
of water varies to an extent unknown in Europe. In dry seasons,
when a large part of the waters that descend from the mountains
is diverted into irrigation channels, and never reaches the sea,
the main stream runs over a shallow bed fordable in many places;
but after heavy rains the swollen waters have such a rapid current
that we were told of travellers being detained a week or ten days
waiting for the opportunity of crossing it. Lieut., afterwards
Admiral, Washington[3] estimated the breadth of the river where
he crossed it, near Azemour, at 150 yards, and found it much the
same at about eighty miles from the sea on the return journey from
Marocco to the coast.
Mazagan, though a small and poor-looking place, bears many traces
of its European origin, as we remarked when we landed here on our
return voyage from Mogador. It was built by the Portuguese in 1566,
and held in spite of frequent assaults by the Moors for more than
two hundred years, having been finally surrendered in 1770.
[Illustration:_J. B. delt._
SAFFI]
We left the roads at 9 A.M. on the 25th, and were glad to see for
the first time the land rising in bold cliffs. The headland seen a
few miles south-west of Mazagan is Cape Blanco; but this projects
little from the general outline of the coast, which shows a tolerably
uniform direction, rising gradually towards the south-west, till we
reach Cape Cantin, the chief headland of this part of the Atlantic
seaboard. The summit is apparently about three hundred feet above
the sea, and the calcareous strata nearly horizontal. Here the coast
line, which from Cape Blanco had kept the direction from north-east
by east to south-west by west, turns abruptly to the south. The
cliffs recede a little at first and form a slight curve, then
rising to a second headland some two hundred feet higher than Cape
Cantin. Beyond this the shore again recedes, and the land subsides,
where a slender stream has cut its way through the plateau inland,
and affords space for the little seaport town of Saffi, or Asfi of
the Moors. The coast line again rises on the south side of Saffi,
forming a steep escarpment some three or four hundred feet in height,
called the Jews’ Rock, about four miles from the town.
Saffi is by far the most picturesque spot on the west coast of
Marocco. The extensive fortifications of the Portuguese, high walls
and square towers, spreading along the shore and up the broken
declivity on which the town is built, with several steep islets,
whose rocks have been gnawed into uncouth shapes by the Atlantic
waves, produce, as seen from the sea, a striking effect. Though
fully exposed to the west, this port is better protected from the
north-east winds than any other on the coast, except Mogador. Behind
it lies the fertile province of Abda, famed for its excellent breed
of horses, and it is the nearest port to the city of Marocco—about
one hundred miles distant—but the want of secure anchorage for
shipping neutralises these natural advantages.
Our stay on this occasion was short, and soon after dark we were
again in motion. We spent pleasantly enough our last evening on board
the _Vérité_. Though he took little pains to conceal his strong
prejudices against the English nation, our captain was thoroughly
good-natured and obliging towards the individual Englishmen
with whom he was associated. No doubt our scientific pursuits
recommended us to his good offices, for the slight smattering of
scientific knowledge acquired by half-educated persons in most
Continental countries has the effect of awakening some interest
in such pursuits. It may, indeed, be doubted whether, at least in
France, the teaching of physical science goes far enough to convey
any accurate knowledge, even of an elementary kind; but, at all
events, the national temperament leads Frenchmen to expose their
deficiencies more than other people readily do. An Englishman who
knows that he is not well grounded in a subject holds his tongue,
or if pressed by questions will probably exaggerate the extent of
his own ignorance, where a Frenchman will gaily lay down the law
and span over the gaps in his knowledge by startling bridges of
conjecture. Our worthy skipper amused us not a little when, in
conversation on the climate of this coast, reference being made
to the rainless zone of the Peruvian coast, he explained that in
that country the moisture of the air is absorbed by the gases that
accompany earthquakes, thus accounting to his own satisfaction for
the meteorological phenomenon. But the full vehemence of his nature
was reserved for matters of much more immediate interest. He had
left Marseilles after the Communist rising in that city had been
suppressed, but while the miserable tragic farce that was to end in
the horrors of May, 1871, was being enacted in Paris. He could not
allude to the subject without a degree of fury that to us seemed
utterly unreasonable. But it is easy for people at a distance to
treat such matters with calmness, and there were not many Englishmen
on the spot who at the time were able to share the noble calmness
of Lord Canning during the Indian Mutiny.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Some fine specimens have been exhibited at the South
Kensington Museum, by our companion, Mr. Maw.]
[Footnote 2: Professor Tyndall has shown that the differences
of tint in seawater depend upon differences in the amount and
dimensions of the particles of solid matter held in suspension;
but the abruptness of the transition from one tint to another has,
we believe, not been fully explained.]
[Footnote 3: ‘Journal of the Royal Geographical Society,’
vol. i., pp. 132-151.]
CHAPTER IV.
Arrival at Mogador — The Sultan’s letter — Preparations for
our journey — The town of Mogador — The neighbouring country —
Ravages of locusts — Native races of South Marocco — Excursion
to the island — Climate of Mogador — Its influence on consumption
— Dinner with the Governor.
At 5 A.M. on April 26 we at length reached the port of
Mogador. Before many minutes a boat was alongside, and we were warmly
welcomed by a gentleman who introduced himself as Mr. Carstensen, the
British Vice-Consul, brother-in-law of Sir J. D. Hay. He was, indeed,
no stranger; for, as a correspondent and active contributor to the
Royal Gardens at Kew, he had long been in friendly relations with
the chief of our party. To his energetic good offices and hospitable
attentions we owe deep obligations, and it was with sincere regret
that we subsequently heard of his premature death in 1873.
At an early hour we were comfortably established in the British
Consulate, where our host and hostess received us as old friends,
and we were soon engaged in discussion as to the arrangements for
the prosecution of our journey, in all of which Mr. Carstensen’s
familiarity with the country and perfect command of the language
were of the utmost value. Having received previous notice of our
arrival and of the objects of our journey, he had already prepared
the way, and thus very much abridged the delays that are inevitable
in such a country.
The first step necessary was to call on the Governor and present
to him the Sultan’s letter. We were courteously received by El
Hadj Hamara, a well-looking man of middle age, in a small plain
room, whose only furniture consisted in cushions laid round the
walls. After shaking hands in European fashion, we proceeded to seat
ourselves, cross-legged—no doubt looking very uncomfortable during
the experiment—while the Sultan’s letter was produced. This
was written on a small sheet of inferior paper, folded to the size
of a note, and sealed with coarse sealing-wax. It was received
by the Governor, the seal reverently applied to his forehead,
and then broken. After reading aloud the few lines of writing,
the Governor handed the letter to Mr. Carstensen, who proceeded to
translate literally for our benefit. It ran thus: ‘On receiving
this, you will send the English hakeem and his companions to the
care of my slave, El Graoui, to whom I have sent orders what he
is to do.’ It should be explained that El Graoui, spoken of as
the Sultan’s slave, was the Governor of the portion of the Great
Atlas that is practically subject to the Imperial authority, and
precisely the person whose favour and assistance it was essential
for our objects to secure.
To strangers unused to the style of the Marocco Court, the Imperial
letter did not seem a very promising document; but it was evident
that, so far as the Governor of Mogador was concerned, it conveyed
the impression that we were to be treated with respect and attention;
and this was doubtless confirmed by the arrival of a courier
from Marocco, bearing a letter from the Sultan’s eldest son,
then acting as viceroy in the southern provinces of the empire,
with orders to take every care for our safety and comfort during
the journey to the capital.
We soon had a specimen of the shape in which official protection
displays itself in this country. On a representation from
Mr. Carstensen that we should require numerous baggage animals,
besides horses and mules to ride, the order had gone forth a week
before our arrival that no horses or mules should be sold or hired in
the town of Mogador until we had selected such as we required. This
accordingly was one of our first cares, and the embargo was raised
in the course of the day. We followed local advice, confirmed by
our own previous experience in warm countries, in choosing mules in
preference to horses. On a long journey they are far less liable to
be laid up, and, to a scientific traveller who has frequent occasion
to dismount, they give less trouble. Their obstinate temper is,
however, often annoying, and, though surefooted, they sometimes have
a very unpleasant trick of tripping or stumbling over stony ground.
A precaution which we took this day is much to be recommended to
travellers. This was to make a trial of pitching our tents on a piece
of rough open ground. People readily suppose that a tent that is
easily set up in an English lawn must answer their expectations on
a march, and have little notion of the amount of discomfort caused
by trifling defects. We speedily found that the pegs supplied in
England are not nearly hard enough to pierce the stiff-baked clay
or stony paste that forms the prevailing soil in this country; and
it was fortunate for our comfort that we took from Mogador an ample
supply of rough pegs, made from the wood of the argan tree. We were
each provided with a tent which satisfied our individual wants, but
scarcely corresponded with the native ideas of what befits personages
of distinction. We were well aware that in this country _prestige_
was an essential element in success, and therefore willingly accepted
the liberal offer of a large handsome native tent made by the local
agent of Messrs. Perry & Co. of Liverpool. This was available only
for the journey across the plains between Mogador and Marocco, as
it was very heavy, forming a load for two camels, and therefore
not suitable for a hilly country. It supplied a comparatively
spacious saloon, wherein we passed our evenings very pleasantly,
before retiring to our separate quarters for the night.
The next matter requiring attention was our costume. It was
foreseen that during some part of our journey, at least, it might
be expedient to adopt the native dress, or such an approximation to
it as would prevent our attracting notice from afar as strange and
outlandish creatures. After due deliberation, the _haïk_ was finally
rejected. This is the ordinary outer garment of natives of the upper
class. An ample robe of fine white woollen stuff is a graceful and
picturesque garment, especially on those who know how to group its
folds about the person; but it is absolutely incompatible with the
free use of the limbs, and more especially for botanists, whose
pursuit brings them into frequent contact with the numberless spiny
plants of this region. The unsightly _jellabia_, a blouse of rough
white woollen stuff, with the addition of a hood that may be drawn
over the head, was adopted, and was not found very inconvenient.
Anticipating unavoidable exposure to a nearly vertical sun, we
had provided ourselves with the grey pith ventilating helmets so
commonly used by Englishmen in the tropics. It was found that by
winding round one of these a moderate strip of the usual material
for turbans, it might be made to pass muster at a distance. But for
head-gear on important occasions the turban was indispensable. The
material, a broad band of light muslin, about thirteen or fourteen
yards in length, is supplied from England, but the art of winding
it round the head requires long practice, and we always resorted
to the aid of one of our attendants. It certainly gives protection
against a hot sun; but it is never quite convenient to a European
of active habits, who finds it hard to acquire the orthodox gravity
of Oriental demeanour, and is sadly apt to disturb the folds of
the turban by some abrupt movement.
There was one article of dress as to which no compromise was
possible. The slippers down at heel that are commonly used by all
classes of natives, and even the red or yellow loose boots that are
sometimes worn on a journey, were equally unsuited to our habits
and pursuits, and we held fast to our accustomed foot-covering.
Mr. Carstensen had kindly made excellent arrangements for our
convenience during our journey by selecting such native attendants
as we should require. One was told off to each of us as a personal
servant, expected to be always in readiness to render any required
assistance; and Hooker’s English attendant, Crump, was included
in this arrangement. This may appear superfluous, and so it might
be to ordinary travellers; but for a party of naturalists anxious to
make the best use of their time, it was almost indispensable. Several
other men were attached to the camp in various capacities, one of the
most useful being a saddler, daily in requisition to repair damage
done to leather work; but by far the most important member of our
suite was the interpreter to the British Consulate, whose services
were spared for fully five weeks. Even with Mr. Carstensen’s
thorough knowledge of the language, this must have been felt as
a serious inconvenience, for Abraham proved himself active and
intelligent; and the duties of a consular agent on the Marocco
coast being by no means of a hum-drum character, the need of a
man familiar with the country and the people in the capacity of
secretary and assistant is daily felt. Being a Marocco Jew, born
in a position of relative inferiority to his Mohammedan neighbours,
Abraham no doubt felt a keen satisfaction in the sense of security
which he derived from his position in the British service. To be
able to converse in a tone approaching to equality with powerful
officials; to emancipate oneself from restrictions trifling, yet
galling, in matters of dress and demeanour; to share in some measure
in the vague sense of power vested in the representatives of the
great European States—must be the climax of ambition to a member
of a despised nationality in a land where neither intelligence nor
wealth nor good reputation give a man security or social recognition.
It had been arranged that our escort was to consist of four soldiers,
under the command of a _kaïd_, nearly equivalent, as we were told,
to a captain in European army rank. This was more than was requisite
for security, as, with all its barbarism, the Marocco Government
is efficient enough within the parts of the territory where the
Sultan’s authority is recognised and feared. Within those limits
it is enough to let it be known that a traveller enjoys the Imperial
protection; no one will ever think of daring to molest him.
After devoting a good part of the day to indispensable preparations
for our future journey, we were free to look about us in the
singular little town which, as the chief port of South Marocco,
is the last outpost of civilisation on the African coast at this
side of the French settlements of Senegal. Like many other places
in Marocco, this owes its existence to the caprice of a Sultan. It
was founded in 1760 by Sidi Mohammed, the most energetic of recent
Moorish sovereigns, and became a considerable place when, a few years
later, the same ruler destroyed Agadir, and ordered the merchants
established there to remove to Mogador. Jackson tells us that it
received its European name from the sanctuary of Sidi Mogodol,
standing somewhere among the neighbouring sandhills; but a town of
Mogador is shown in a map published in 1608,[1] standing a short
way north of the island, which is there marked ‘I. Domegador.’
As have most of those marked on the early maps, the ancient town
had doubtless disappeared before the foundation of the present one,
called by the Moors Soueira; but the old name must have survived
in the country.
The low rocky island lying opposite to the town, and separated by a
navigable channel, affords shelter from all winds except those from
the SW.; but the depth of water is not great, and there are numerous
dangerous reefs, so that in threatening weather steam is always kept
up, and ships proceed to sea when SW. winds are expected. Although
the island is shown on the oldest maps, and the channel is
represented much as we now see it in the plates to Jackson’s
work, from drawings made about the beginning of this century, we
were positively assured that old people in Mogador recollected the
time when the island was connected with the mainland by an isthmus,
over which cattle could be driven at low water; and this story
seemed to have gained credence with the European inhabitants.
Though it has no buildings of importance, the town is in one respect
the most habitable in Marocco, being remarkably clean, and in that
respect superior to very many seaports in Europe. This is largely
due to the efforts of two intelligent French physicians, who have
at various periods visited Mogador, but especially to the exertions
of Dr. Thevenin, who has resided there for many years.
The Governor and other officials, with the European consuls and
merchants, all reside in the Kasbah—the chief of the three
quarters into which the town is divided. Here are several narrow
but regularly-built streets; the houses are mostly of two stories,
enclosing a small courtyard, which is entered by a low and narrow
doorway from the street. In the Moorish town, inhabited by natives
of the lower class, the houses are of one story, and poor in
appearance; but the practice of whitewashing within and without
once every week makes them look clean, and, no doubt, has much to
do with the remarkable immunity of this place from contagious and
endemic diseases. The Jewish town is much overcrowded; but we were
assured that even here the modern gospel of soap and water has made
much progress.
In the afternoon we sallied forth with our portfolios; but in
deference to public opinion, which could not endure that strangers
of consequence should be seen trudging on foot, we rode for about a
mile out of the town. Its surroundings are not prepossessing. The low
tertiary limestone rock, on which it is built, and which doubtless
extends inland for some distance, is covered up to the city walls
by blown sand, driven along the shore before the SW. winds, forming
dunes that cover the whole surface; and in most directions one may
ride two or three miles before encountering any other vegetation
than a few paltry attempts at cultivating vegetables for the table
within little enclosed plots, whose owners are constantly disputing
the ground with the intrusive sand. The chief break in the monotony
of the sand ridges is due to the small stream of the Oued Kseb
(called Oued el-Ghoreb on Beaudouin’s map), which reaches the sea
little more than a mile away on the south side of the town. Much
of the water being diverted, the current is not strong enough to
keep a channel through the sands, but forms at its mouth a marsh,
where many of the most interesting plants of the neighbourhood are
to be found. The drip from the small aqueduct that supplies water to
the town suffices to give nourishment to other less uncommon species.
Mogador has long been tolerably well known to botanists. It was
visited by Broussonet at the latter end of the last century,
and was for some time the residence of Schousboë. More recently
the neighbourhood has been explored by the late Mr. Lowe and by
M. Balansa. We could not, therefore, reasonably expect to find here
anything new to science; but our short excursion was nevertheless
full of interest, though not altogether of an agreeable kind. We
here saw for the first time a district recently ravaged by locusts;
and while we acquired a lively sense of the amount of mischief
effected by these destructive creatures, we also found out how
it happens that the damage is confined within tolerable limits;
how, in short, they fail to turn the country into a desert. When
one reads the reports of credible eye-witnesses, who describe the
arrival of swarms of locusts that devour every green thing, one
asks oneself how it can be possible for man or animals to survive
such destruction. In the first place, it may be remarked that, like
most other sweeping statements, these are not strictly true. The
locusts do not, in point of fact, devour every green thing. In
the spots where they were most destructive we always remarked that
certain plants escaped untouched. The result of this immunity would
naturally be to substitute the latter for the species destroyed by
the locusts, were there not some very efficient agency for repairing
the damage and maintaining the life of the species, if not of the
individual. An important element in considering this question is the
season at which the mischief is effected. The young locust grows
very fast, and it is mainly during the period of growth that it
consumes vegetation. When once the animal has attained its full size,
it becomes comparatively inert, and its capacity for destruction
is vastly diminished. If the swarm of young locusts arrives before
the middle of April, when the rainy season is not quite over, the
first showers revive the plants that have been devoured almost to
the root with surprising rapidity. Perennial species throw out new
buds, and are soon again covered with leaf and flower; and the same
often happens with annuals, unless these have already shed their
seed, and then a new crop soon reappears. It may be supposed that
the vast amount of decaying animal matter left on the surface,
even in the most barren spot, contributes not a little to the
vigour of the vegetation, and thus compensates for the destruction
effected at an earlier stage. It is when the swarms appear late,
and attack the wheat or maize after the flowers are developed,
that the consequences to the population are very serious, and
famines result that periodically affect large districts.
In the present year it was clear that rain had fallen since the
locust invasion, and although much damage had been done, tolerable
specimens of many plants here seen for the first time were to be
found. A few of these are common to the Canary Islands and this part
of Africa; others are not yet known except on this coast. The most
curious of them is the _Senecio_ (_Kleinia_) _pteroneura_, whose
succulent almost leafless branches, as thick as a man’s finger,
bear a few heads of flowers that differ little, save in their
larger size, from those of the common groundsel. Well pleased with
our first glance at the South Marocco flora, we returned to our
comfortable quarters, and spent a pleasant evening in discussing
our future movements, and in drawing upon our host’s ample stores
of information respecting the country and its inhabitants.
We were now for the first time brought into contact with the
primitive stock of this part of Africa, one main branch of the
Bereber race, which is distinguished by speaking some dialect of the
Shelluh (Shleuh) language.[2] The affinity of this people with the
Berebers of the Lesser Atlas—including under that name the Kabyles
of Algeria, with the Riff tribes of North-west Marocco—has been
denied, but does not appear to be open to reasonable doubt. The
type is physically the same, excepting among some of the tribes
south of the Great Atlas, where the intermixture of Negro blood
has introduced new and very diverse elements. The languages now
spoken among these tribes doubtless exhibit marked differences,
especially to the ear of a foreigner. Jackson long ago denied the
relationship between the Shelluh and the Bereber, while Washington,
in the paper already quoted, came to a contrary conclusion. It may
now be considered as beyond question that the differences between
the Shelluh and the Kabyle are merely dialectic.[3] The value of
linguistic evidence in ethnological inquiries has of late been
questioned by eminent critics, and it must be conceded that such
evidence, when it merely rests on lexicographical coincidences, is
of less value than when it is derived from grammatical structure;
yet, after all deductions, the facts remain to be accounted for,
and, in the absence of proof to the contrary, it goes far towards
proving community of origin. It must be remembered, that unlettered
races are subject to far greater and more rapid changes of dialect
than those who preserve in sacred books or popular poetry fixed
standards of correct speech; add to this, the chances of error when
a traveller, communicating with a native through an interpreter,
and contending with sounds unusual to his ear, attempts to form
a vocabulary. These causes, acting together, tend to increase the
difficulty of recognizing linguistic affinities that really exist.
In the absence of any indication of the intrusion of a conquering
race that can be supposed to have imposed its language on the
previous population, it seems most probable that the native races
of North Africa, between the Libyan Desert and the Atlantic coast,
including also the Canary Islands, all belong to a single stock,
which may best be called Bereber. The two main branches are both
mountain peoples. To the north we have the tribes of the Lesser
Atlas, extending from the gates of Tetuan to the hill country
of Tunis, who may best bear the common name of Kabyles—to the
south-west the population of the Great Atlas, from the neighbourhood
of Fez to the coast between Agadir and Oued Noun, broken up into
numerous tribes, but all speaking some dialect of the same language,
and thence called generically Shelluhs. Of the scattered fragments
of the Bereber stock that have spread far through the oases of
the Great Desert, till they have come into contact with the Negro
tribes from the south of that barrier, our information is still
most imperfect. In constant conflict with each other, and with the
Arab and Negro tribes who dispute with them the scanty means of
subsistence that Nature here provides, they appear on the whole to
predominate over their competitors. The Touarecks, scattered over a
territory as large as half of Europe, from Algeria to Soudan, form
a separate branch of the same stock; while we learn from Gerhard
Rohlfs that the predatory tribes of the desert south of Marocco
are merely Shelluhs who have changed their habits and manner of
life to suit altered conditions of existence.
The character of the Bereber has scarcely received justice at
the hands either of ancient or modern writers. They have been
inconvenient neighbours for those who have sought to encroach on
their territory, and they are justly dreaded by the traveller through
the Great Desert as the most active and enterprising of the human
enemies he must confront or evade. Comparing them with the Moor and
Arab population of South Marocco, our report agrees with that of
Jackson, who probably knew them better than any other European has
done. They are decidedly superior in intelligence, in industry,
and general activity to their neighbours. Two of our retinue,
selected by Mr. Carstensen among the mountaineers who resort to
Mogador to pick up a living about the port, distinguished themselves
over all the rest both in physical and mental qualities; and one of
these especially, who became Hooker’s personal attendant, showed
an amount of general intelligence and unfailing cheerfulness that
made him a favourite with the entire party.
On the morning of the 27th we made an excursion to the island. It is
formed of an irregular, low, knobby mass of very friable tertiary
rock, which seems to yield rapidly to the erosive action of the
heavy waves that almost constantly break on its seaward face, where
the overhanging cliffs are hollowed into caverns. At the time of
our visit it appeared to be uninhabited. Two or three heavy pieces
of cannon, honeycombed with rust, lay near the highest point, but
seemed never to have been placed in position. A small building was
said to have been sometimes used for the custody of State prisoners,
but otherwise there was no indication here of the presence of
man. In such a spot we expected to find the coast vegetation fully
developed, but we counted without the locusts. Nowhere else did we
observe such complete destruction. A good many plants growing on
the rocks, within constant reach of the sea-spray, had escaped;
but on the rest of the island scarcely a green leaf remained,
and it required a patient search to discover a few fruits of some
leguminous plants that appear to abound in this locality. Of the
seaside rock-plants three were supposed to be peculiar to this single
spot. _Andryala mogadorensis_, of Cosson, a very showy species of
an unattractive genus, has been well figured in the ‘Botanical
Magazine’ for 1873; _Frankenia velutina_, the most ornamental
species of that variable genus, appeared at first quite distinct,
but we were afterwards led to suspect it to be a local form or
subspecies of the widely spread perennial _Frankenia_, so common
in the Mediterranean region. Both of these we afterwards found on
the coast near Saffi. Of the third plant—_Asteriscus imbricatus_,
of Decandolle—but a single stunted specimen was found by Ball,
and as yet it has no other known habitat. We here saw for the first
time a plant which turned out to be rather common in South Marocco,
and which was taken by us, as it had been by preceding botanists,
to be the _Apteranthes Gussoniana_, of Mikan, first described by
Gussone as _Stapelia europæa_, and in truth closely resembling
in habit and appearance some of the South African species of
_Stapelia_. The fruit, which we afterwards found in abundance,
did not appear different from that of Gussone’s plant; but when
the specimens carried to England by Maw flowered two years later,
the structure of the flower showed that it should be recognised
as a distinct species of the group which has received the generic
name _Boucerosia_, and it was accordingly published by Hooker, in
the ‘Botanical Magazine’ (No. 6137), under the name _Boucerosia
maroccana_.
In the course of the day we called on Monsieur Beaumier, the French
Consul, in company with Dr. Thevenin, an intelligent physician,
who has spent several years at Mogador, much to the advantage
of the inhabitants whether Christian or native. M. Beaumier not
only received us with the proverbial courtesy of his country, but
showed a warm interest in the success of our journey, and kindly
supplied us with many items of information, along with manuscript
notes prepared by himself during his residence in South Marocco. His
premature death, from an illness contracted during a visit to France
in 1875, has been a serious loss to the country which he had made
his second home.
Amongst other items of information, we owe to M. Beaumier a series
of meteorological observations carried on at Mogador with a single
interruption for nearly nine years, and supplying all requisite
particulars for eight complete years. The results are so remarkable
that they have attracted the attention of many physicians, and may
probably lead at some not distant date to the selection of this
place as a sanitarium for consumptive patients.
Dr. Thevenin mentioned several facts of much interest in their
bearing on this question. In the first place, phthisis is all but
completely unknown among the inhabitants of this part of Africa;
while in Algeria cases are not rare among the natives, and in
Egypt they are rather frequent. In the course of ten years he had
met but five cases among his very numerous native patients, and in
three of these the disease had been contracted at a distance. He
further mentioned several cases among Europeans who had arrived
in an advanced stage of the disease, on whom the influence of the
climate had exercised a remarkable curative effect.
An examination of the tables, showing the results of M. Beaumier’s
observations, and especially those for temperature, may help to
explain these facts, as they certainly show that Mogador enjoys a
more equable climate than any place within the temperate zone as
to which we possess accurate information.
It should be mentioned that these observations were made with good
instruments, sufficiently well situated on the shady side of the
open court-yard of the French Consulate, about thirty feet above
the sea level. The hours of observation were 8 A.M., 2 P.M., and 10
P.M.—not perhaps the best that could be selected, but sufficient
in a climate where rapid transitions are unknown.
A few of the results here stated in Fahrenheit’s scale are derived
from M. Beaumier’s tables as continued to the end of 1874:—
Mean temperature during eight years = 66.9°
Do. for the hottest year (1867) = 68.65
Do. for the coldest year (1872) = 65.75
Mean of the annual maxima = 82.5
Mean of the annual minima = 53.0
Highest temperature observed = 87.8
Lowest temperature observed = 50.7
More striking still is the comparison between the temperature of
summer and winter. The following results show the monthly mean
temperature, derived from eight years’ observations:—
{June = 70.8
Summer {July = 71.1
{August = 71.2
{December = 61.4
Winter {January = 61.2
{February = 61.8
showing a difference of only 10° of Fahrenheit’s scale between
the hottest and coldest months. It has not been possible to
ascertain accurately the daily range of the thermometer, as there
were no self-recording instruments employed; but there is reason
to believe that this would exhibit a still more remarkable proof
of the equability of the climate. So far as the observations go
they show an ordinary daily range of about 5° Fahr., and rarely
exceeding 8° Fahr. It may be added, that in the course of six
weeks from our arrival on April 26 to our departure on June 7,
the lowest night temperature observed at Mogador was 61° Fahr.,
and the highest by day 77° Fahr.
If the climate of Mogador be compared with that of such places as
Algiers, Madeira (Funchal), and Cairo, which have nearly the same
mean winter temperature, it will be found that in each of those
places the mercury is occasionally liable to fall considerably below
50°, and that the summer heat is greatly in excess of the limits
that suit delicate constitutions, the mean of the three hottest
months being about 80° Fahr. at Algiers, about 82° at Funchal,
and 85° at Cairo. It will help to complete the impression as to the
Mogador climate to say, that rain falls on an average on forty-five
days in the year; and that, per 1,000 observations on the state of
the sky, the proportions are
Clear 785; Clouded 175; Foggy 40:
the latter entry referring to days when a fog or thick haze prevails
in the morning, but disappears before mid-day. The desert wind is
scarcely felt at Mogador. On an average it blows on about two days
in each year, and on these rare occasions it has much less effect
on the thermometer than it has in Madeira, doubtless owing to the
protective effect of the chain of the Great Atlas.
These remarkable climatal conditions have been mainly attributed
to the influence of the north-east trade wind, which sets along the
coast, and prevails, especially in summer, throughout a great part
of the year; the average of north and north-east winds being about
271 days out of 365. West and south-west winds blow chiefly in winter
on about fifty-seven days in each year, and variable winds from the
remaining four points prevail on an average of thirty-seven days. The
north-east breeze, increasing in force as the sun approaches the
meridian, maintains the exceptionally cool summer temperature already
indicated as characteristic of the Mogador climate—a privilege
which is not shared by Saffi or Mazagan, where the summer heat
is sometimes excessive. It must be noted that although the summer
temperature of the interior of Marocco is much higher than that of
Mogador, it yet falls far short of what is found in places lying
in the same latitude in North Africa or Asia. This is evidently
owing to the influence of the Great Atlas chain, with its branches
that diverge northward towards the Mediterranean, which screen the
entire region from the burning winds of the desert, and send down
streams that cover the land with vegetation.
When one comes to consider how it happens that a place possessing
such extraordinary natural advantages has not become frequented
by the class of invalids to whom climate offers the only chance
of recovering health, or prolonging life, the obvious answer is,
that invalids cannot live on air alone, and that few persons
in that condition have the courage to select a place where they
may reasonably expect much difficulty in procuring the comforts
and even the necessaries of life, competent medical advice, and
some reasonable opportunities for occupation or amusement. The
difficulties under the first two heads are perhaps not very
serious. Lodging and food may apparently be procured on reasonable
terms, and for many years past there has always been a competent
French physician residing here. The resources of the place in point
of society are of course limited, and must vary with the arrival
and departure of the few European residents; but any one fortunate
enough to be interested in any branch of natural history would find
constant occupation of an agreeable kind in a place where there are
not half a dozen days in the year that may not be agreeably passed
out of doors.[4]
A special subject, to be earnestly recommended to any competent
inquirer, whether invalid or not, who may pass six months at Mogador,
is the language and ethnology of the Shelluh branch of the Bereber
race. Many of these mountain people come to seek a living at Mogador,
and from our experience it would not be difficult to find one who
would become a useful servant.
In the course of the day we visited the extensive stores of
Messrs. E. Bonnet & Co., who export large quantities of olive oil
from the neighbouring provinces. By increased care in the preparation
and subsequent purification of the oil, its quality has been much
improved. The cultivation of the vine has of late rapidly increased,
and wine of tolerable quality has taken a place among the products
which Marocco supplies to England.
Notwithstanding all that we had heard of the excellence of the
climate, we had to confess that at this season Mogador is not a
paradise for the botanist. The NNE. winds come saturated with vapour,
and charged with minute particles of salt from the breaking of the
Atlantic waves on the reefs near the town; and, as the temperature
of the land is scarcely higher than that of the sea, the air has
little or no drying effect on paper and plants. The consequence was
that Mr. Carstensen’s kitchen was used both by day and night to
save our specimens from destruction by damp.
As our interpreter, besides the cook and one or two more of our
retinue, were Jews, it was decided that, in order to spare their
feelings and those of the Jewish community in Mogador in respect
to the Sabbath, we should despatch them along with our heavy
baggage on April 28, while we should follow on the succeeding day
to the spot where they were to await us. Later in the day, after
completing the arrangements for our journey, we went by invitation
to dine with the Governor. We found that our host had had a table
prepared with chairs for Mrs. Carstensen, who with two European
ladies graced the entertainment. Beside them a carpet was spread
for Mr. Carstensen and our party; while the Governor himself, with
three native functionaries, sat in their usual fashion, cross-legged,
on another carpet several yards distant. The first preliminary was
the washing of fingers. One attendant bore water, another a brass
bowl or basin, and a third presented to each in turn an embroidered
towel. This process is always repeated at the close of dinner,
and is common to all classes in the country. The feast then began,
as every well-ordered Moorish banquet must do, by green tea. Three
cups, carefully prepared in the presence of the guests, in a silver
teapot half filled with sugar, were handed in succession to each,
and then fresh tea, with mint leaves added, is again prepared,
and of this decoction the natives usually take one or two cups
more. The serious part of the repast then followed. A large dish
of coarse earthenware, covered with a conical cap of fine straw,
twice the size of a beehive, is laid on a low wooden frame in the
centre of the circle of guests. On the present occasion duplicate
dishes were prepared for us, and for the Governor and his native
friends. When the cover was removed, we were introduced to the
national dish which was destined to be our frequent acquaintance
during our journey in the South. The basis of _keskossou_ is coarse
wheaten, or sometimes millet flour, cooked with butter, for which
oil is occasionally substituted. To this is added mutton, lamb,
or fowls, cut up into pieces, with various vegetables, either
laid on the farinaceous substratum or mixed up with it. Numerous
dishes succeeded each other, but they appeared to be all variations
on the same gastronomic theme. The cookery on this occasion was
better than we often found it; but the pervading flavour of rancid
butter, long kept in great earthen pots, is repulsive to European
stomachs, and few strangers are ever fortunate enough to be able
to enjoy Moorish feasts. To some of us this was the first occasion
for practising the art of eating with our fingers, and it was lucky
that our host was not at hand to observe the awkwardness of our first
essays. We improved somewhat with practice, but never could approach
the dexterity and neatness with which the natives accomplish the
operation, using only the fingers of the right hand. Conversation
was completely drowned during dinner by the native music provided
in compliment to the distinguished guests. Four men, squatting on
the ground, struck the stretched metal strings of an instrument
somewhat resembling a very rude Tyrolese _zither_, and kept up a
constant chant or recitation in loud nasal tones, very different
from the slow monotonous almost always melancholy songs of the Arabs
in the East. These men, on the contrary, declaimed the words with
unflagging energy, as though determined that the hearers should
understand the story; and it was a moment of intense relief when
at the end of dinner the deafening clang of strings and voices
ceased. The fingers were again washed, green tea again served,
courtesy requiring that each guest should take at least three cups,
and then the Governor and his friends advanced and joined our party.
Mr. Carstensen had asked permission to bring some wine for our
use during dinner, and afterwards naturally took the occasion to
invite the Moors present to take a share. With very slight show of
reluctance, they accepted; and, though the quantity consumed was
but trifling, the effect was unmistakable. The conversation became
very lively, and jokes passed which excited peals of laughter,
though most of them evaporated in the process of translation. One of
the Moorish guests—Director of the Tobacco monopoly, as we were
told—from the first struck us as a man of jovial temperament;
and on him the extra glass or two of wine had a potent effect,
the jollity culminating in an extemporised dance, reminding one
of the dancing bears, once the delight of our youth, that have
disappeared since the era of Zoological Gardens. The copious doses
of green tea did not prevent some of the party from sleeping; while
others sat up till near morning, engaged in the almost hopeless
endeavour to get large piles of botanical paper thoroughly dry,
before we finally started on our journey into the interior.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: See Appendix C.]
[Footnote 2: The usage of preceding English writers is hereafter
followed by writing the name, Shelluh; but to our ears the native
pronunciation is more accurately given by the spelling Shleuh
or Shloo.]
[Footnote 3: See Appendix H.]
[Footnote 4: Those who are interested in the subject should
consult a pamphlet entitled ‘_Mogador et son Climat_,’ par
V. Seux, Marseille, 1870, and a paper in the Bulletin of the French
Geographical Society for 1875, by Dr. Ollive, now residing at that
place, styled ‘_Climat de Mogador et de son influence sur la
Phthisie_.’ There are some errors in the tables included in the
latter paper, and especially in that headed ‘_Tableau comparatif
des Températures moyennes de diverses stations hivernales_.’]
CHAPTER V.
Departure from Mogador — Argan forest — Hilly country of Haha
— Fertile province of Shedma — Hospitality of the Governor
— Turkish visitor — Offering of provisions — Kasbah of the
Governor — Ride to Aïn Oumast — First view of the Great Atlas
— Pseudo-Sahara — Tomb of a Saint — Nzelas — Ascend the
‘Camel’s Back’ — Oasis of Sheshaoua — Coolness of the
night temperature — Rarity of ancient buildings — Halt at Aïn
Beida — Tents and luggage gone astray — Night at Misra ben Kara
— Cross the Oued Nfys — Plain of Marocco — Range of the Great
Atlas — Halt under Tamarisk tree.
The morning of Saturday, April 29, was fixed for our departure from
Mogador, and about 7 A.M. all were ready to start.
Mr. and Mrs. Carstensen, with a rather numerous party of the European
residents at Mogador, had arranged to escort us for a distance of
some seven miles; and it was agreed that, instead of following the
direct road to the city of Marocco, which runs about ENE. from
Mogador, we should make a detour nearly at right angles to that
direction, or about SSE., so as to gain a fuller acquaintance with
the Argan forest.
Our course lay in the same direction that we had chosen in our
first short excursion from the town. Between the belt of sandy shore
that is daily washed by the tide, and the sand dunes that rose in
undulations on our left, we rode past the mouth of the Oued Kseb,
and then began to ascend over sandy dunes, whereon the prevailing
plant is _Genista monosperma_, the R’tam of the Arabs, whose
slender silvery branches wave in the slightest breeze. Several
of the peculiar plants of this coast occurred at intervals, such
as _Cheiranthus semperflorens_, _Statice mucronata_, a curious and
somewhat ornamental species, and two or three kinds of _Erodium_. As
the track rises and recedes a little from the coast, the tertiary
calcareous rock that underlies the sandhills crops out here and
there, and the first Argan trees begin to show themselves. As
we advanced, the trees grew larger and nearer together, and as
we approached our intended halt, at a place called Douar Arifi,
they formed a continuous forest.
The Argan tree is in many respects the most remarkable plant of South
Marocco; and it attracts the more attention as it is the only tree
that commonly attains a large size, and forms a conspicuous feature
of the landscape in the low country near the coast. In structure and
properties it is nearly allied to the tropical genus _Sideroxylon_
(Iron-wood); but there is enough of general resemblance, both in its
mode of growth and its economic uses, to the familiar olive tree
of the Mediterranean region to make it the local representative
of that plant. Its home is the sub-littoral zone of South-western
Marocco, where it is common between the rivers Tensift and Sous. A
few scattered trees only are said to be found north of the Tensift;
but it seems to be not infrequent in the hilly district between the
Sous and the river of Oued Noun, making the total length of its area
about 200 miles. Extending from near the coast for a distance of
thirty or forty miles inland, it is absolutely unknown elsewhere in
the world. The trunk always divides at a height of eight or ten feet
from the ground, and sends out numerous spreading, nearly horizontal
branches. The growth is apparently very slow, and the trees that
attain a girth of twelve to fifteen feet are probably of great
antiquity. The minor branches and young shoots are beset with stiff
thick spines, and the leaves are like those of the olive in shape,
but of a fuller green, somewhat paler on the under side. Unlike the
olive, the wood is of extreme hardness, and seemingly indestructible
by insects, as we saw no example of a hollow trunk. The fruit,
much like a large olive in appearance, but varying much in size
and shape, is greedily devoured by goats, sheep, camels, and cows,
but refused by horses and mules; its hard kernel furnishes the oil
which replaces that of the olive in the cookery of South Marocco,
and is so unpleasant to the unaccustomed palate of Europeans. The
annexed cut, showing an average Argan, about twenty-five feet in
height, and covering a space of sixty or seventy feet in diameter,
with another, where goats are seen feeding on the fruit, exhibits a
[Illustration: ARGAN TREES]
scene which at first much amused us, as we had not been accustomed to
consider the goat as an arboreal quadruped.[1] Owing to the spreading
habit of the branches, which in the older trees approach very near
to the ground, no young seedlings are seen where the trees are
near together, and but little vegetation, excepting small annuals;
but in open places, and on the outer skirts of the forest, there
grows in abundance a peculiar species of Thyme (_T. Broussonnetii_),
with broadly ovate leaves and bracts that are coloured red or purple,
and the characteristic strong scent of that tribe. It is interesting
to the botanist as an endemic species, occupying almost exactly
the same geographical area as the Argan. As we afterwards found,
it is replaced in the interior of the country by an allied, but
quite distinct, species. Its penetrating odour seems to be noxious
to moths, as the dried twigs and leaves are much used in Mogador,
and found effectual for the preservation of woollen stuffs.
Not many flowering plants were seen in the shade of the Argan trees;
the only species worthy of note being a very slender annual Asphodel
(_A. tenuifolius_), and _Carum mauritanicum_—a plant somewhat
resembling our British pignut.
Meanwhile carpets had been spread under the shade of one of the
largest Argan trees, and a copious breakfast was displayed. Fully
an hour had been consumed between eating and conversation and the
parting cigar, when, bidding farewell to our friends, we finally
started on our road for the interior, under the guardianship of
the worthy old Kaïd who commanded our escort. Separated from our
interpreter and our luggage, we felt ourselves at first strangely
isolated; but thanks to the cheerful readiness of our Shelluh
attendants, and especially of Omback, who had been specially assigned
to Hooker, this impression soon wore off. Our men had been engaged
in unloading cargo from English ships in the port of Mogador, and
had commenced the study of the English tongue by picking up about a
dozen words from the sailors. They at once showed themselves anxious
to add to their store, and the result was that all, but especially
Omback, gained such a smattering of the language as served our
purpose for many of the ordinary purposes of life. ‘Catch him
flower’ became the ordinary way of desiring a man to gather some
plant by the wayside, and many similar phrases soon passed current
between us. The only term of disapproval in use with our men was
‘bloody dog,’ and this was not seldom applied to the mules
whenever they gave trouble, as those creatures are wont to do.
As we rode on, the Argan forest grew thinner, the trees were
gradually intermixed with other species, amongst which we noted a few
specimens of _Callitris quadrivalvis_—the _Arar_ of the Moors—and
before long we gained, from the brow of a low hill where the forest
ceased altogether, a rather wide view over a country not altogether
unlike some parts of England. The hills of the province of Haha rise
in successive undulations as they recede from the coast in sloping
downs, relieved at intervals by clumps of trees, and elsewhere
broken by masses of low shrubs. The calcareous rock, which seems
never far from the surface, is thinly covered over with red earth;
and patches of cultivation, chiefly barley or wheat, the former now
nearly ripe, here and there indicated the presence of man somewhere
within reach, but seemed to show that he plays a subordinate part
in fashioning the appearance of the country. The prevailing bush or
small tree is _Zizyphus Lotus_, whose double sets of thorns—one
pointing forward and the other curved back—were destined to plague
us throughout all the low country of South Marocco. The _Zizyphus_
was often quite covered over by climbing plants, that rise ten or
twelve feet from the ground. The most frequent of these, an _Ephedra_
and an _Asparagus_, do not appear to require any special organs of
attachment. Probably the intricate branches and complex spines of
the _Zizyphus_ render these superfluous.
Soon after this we first met bushes of one of the peculiar plants
of South Marocco, then little known, and of which we were not
able to learn much by personal inspection. The _Acacia gummifera_
of Willdenow is one of a group of allied species of which the
remainder inhabit Upper Egypt and Nubia, while one, at least, is
widely spread throughout Eastern Africa and Arabia. The tasteless
gum known as the gum-arabic of commerce is probably produced by
several of these species. Like its allies, the South Marocco plant
flowers late in the year, after the first autumn rains, and ripens
its pods during the winter. Hence, as seen by us in spring, without
flower or fruit, there was little to distinguish this from several
of the other forms of this group.[2]
Among herbaceous plants that attracted our notice was _Glaucium
corniculatum_ (here always orange, and never crimson as it is in
Palestine), with _Campanula dichotoma_, only just coming into flower,
whilst two or three degrees farther north, in Palestine and Syria,
it usually flowers three weeks earlier. More interesting, as being
one of the few local plants common to South Marocco and the Canary
Islands, was the _Linaria sagittata_ (_Antirrhinum sagittatum_ of
Poiret), very unlike any other toadflax in the form of its leaves
and its much branched twining stems that spread far and wide over
the low bushes.
Although the air was cooled by a pleasant breeze, the direct rays
of the sun were very powerful, and we were glad to make a short
halt for luncheon near a well, where a small ruined building of
rough masonry gave a narrow fringe of shadow. Resuming our route,
we soon after recrossed the sluggish stream of the Oued Kseb, whose
banks were fringed with _Vitex Agnus castus_, and with _Cyperaceæ_
not yet in flower. We took this at the time for one of the branches
of a river shown on the French map as falling into the Atlantic
north of the Djebel Hadid, some twenty miles from Mogador; but we
afterwards came to the conclusion that no such river is in existence.
At or near the ford is the boundary of the province of Shedma, much
less extensive than that of Haha, but apparently more fertile. The
soil now sensibly improved, and there were indications of more
careful husbandry. At the same time the larger portion of the surface
remained in a state of nature, and gratified our botanical appetites
by a display of many novelties. The varied species of _Genista_, that
are so conspicuous in North Marocco and the Spanish peninsula, were
here little seen, but are replaced by several allied genera. _Cytisus
albidus_ and _Anagyris fœtida_ are especially prominent. _Withania
fruticosa_, a curious Solanaceous shrub, which we had already seen
near Casa Blanca and during the morning ride, here became extremely
common; but what most interested us was _Linaria ventricosa_ of
Cosson, a large species, with stiff erect branches three or four
feet in height, first found in the adjoining province of Haha by
M. Balansa, and which we afterwards saw to be widely spread through
South Marocco, and one of the characteristic features of the flora.
The dwarf fan-palm (_Chamærops humilis_, or palmetto of the
Spaniards), much less common in Marocco than it is in the hotter
parts of Southern Europe, was here rather abundant, perhaps because
it is one of the few plants that the locusts are unable or unwilling
to devour.
As we rode onward, gradually ascending over a gently undulating
country, this became constantly more productive. In two or three
places the people were cutting tolerable crops of ripe corn; the
olive, fig, and pomegranate became frequent, and for the first
and last time we saw the former tree cultivated with care, pruned,
and apparently manured.
The sun had just set when we at length reached our camp outside the
large castle of the Governor of Shedma, and found our interpreter
and other attendants anxiously awaiting our arrival. The tents were
already pitched, and our heavy luggage was in its place. We should
have been glad to eat a moderate repast in peace, lay out the plants
collected during the day, and retire to rest; but that would have
been nowise suitable to the dignity of a party travelling under
the especial protection of the Sultan, and whose importance had
doubtless been exaggerated to the utmost by the inventive talents
of our interpreter. In the absence of the Governor, his son, a
stout overfed man of forty, welcomed us on our arrival, and invited
us to dine in the _kasbah_, and of course courtesy required us to
accept the invitation. After a brief toilet, we proceeded to enter
the castle, and were led through open spaces to the inner building,
which forms the dwelling of the Governor, and then through a court,
with flower-plots in the centre, to a large and handsome hall, where
we were to be entertained. As usual, there was little furniture,
save several showy Rabat carpets, but we noticed three or four
ornamental French timepieces in a recess where it would appear
that the Governor or his son were used to sleep. Besides our host,
there was present a grave man whose features differed much from the
ordinary Moorish type. He turned out to be a Turk who had already
passed several months as a guest in the Governor’s castle. We never
understood accurately what had brought him so far from Istamboul;
but we were led to believe that he had come on some informal mission,
and that its traditional jealousy of foreigners, nowise confined
to Christians, had led the Moorish Court to interpose obstacles in
the way of his advance into the country.
After a quarter of an hour’s interchange of civil speeches,
conversation began to flag; but the Governor’s cook, who perhaps
wished to display his professional skill on the occasion, was yet far
from completing his operations. Quite an hour passed, we were tired
and sleepy, and our fat host showed no talent for conversation,
so that the time hung heavily enough until the usual preface to
dinner, green tea, was introduced. Doubtless the entertainment was
everything that a Moorish connoisseur would have thought refined and
exquisite. Orange-flower water was provided for washing the fingers,
and incense was burned at the beginning of the repast. Our host
was attentive enough to pick out and present to us choice pieces
of meat or vegetable from the dishes that followed each other in
slow order, but he fortunately did not think it necessary to show
the utmost mark of hospitable attention by taking an especially
delicate morsel from his own mouth and thrusting it into that of a
guest. It was quite ten o’clock when, after further potations of
green tea, we returned to our tents. Presently Hooker was requested,
through Abraham, our interpreter, to receive the _mona_, or offering
of food, which, in accordance with the Sultan’s order, was to
be provided at each place where we stopped on our journey. The
_mona_ on this occasion befitted the dignity of the Governor of
an important province rather than the wants of three travellers
who had just been abundantly fed, and whose retinue could not,
with the best intentions, consume one half of the articles supplied.
Opposite the door of our large tent a number of the Governor’s
servants appeared, the whole group being lit up by torchlight. First,
five live sheep were dragged forward, then twenty fowls, then
followed a large hollow dish filled with eggs. To these succeeded a
very large earthen jar of butter, and another of honey, a package of
green tea, four loaves of sugar, candles of French manufacture, which
are largely imported, and finally corn for our horses and mules. As
if all this were not enough, there then advanced a procession of
men, carrying the usual large dishes with beehive covers, each of
which in turn was laid down before Hooker. It may be here mentioned
that the presentation of _mona_ was henceforward a daily ceremony,
repeated every evening, some time after our arrival in camp. The
requisition was made by the soldiers of our escort upon the local
authority, whether a governor or a mere village sheik; and this
was a part of their duties which they performed with unfailing zeal
and punctuality. On such an occasion as the present we had no fear
of pressing too hardly on the donors of the _mona_; but in poor
places, and especially in the valleys of the Great Atlas, we had
an unpleasant feeling that the exorbitant demands of our rapacious
escort imposed a heavy tax on the limited means of the population.
Struggling against sleep, we diligently worked at our plants till
long past midnight, and then, at length, sought rest after our
first day’s journey in South Marocco. On the morning of April
30, we were up betimes, and had an opportunity of viewing the
_kasbah_. It is a large pile of building, enclosed by a high wall,
within which there is space for great numbers of horses, camels,
and domestic animals of all kinds, with dwellings for the numerous
retainers and rooms for guests, all separate from the central block
which forms the residence of the great man, his family, and personal
attendants. Except that it is mainly built of _tapia_, or blocks of
mud, rammed into square moulds and hardened in the sun, this and
other similar buildings in Marocco differ little from the castles
which the semibarbarous feudal chiefs inhabited throughout a great
part of Europe in the so-called ages of chivalry, and down to the
beginning of the last century. A more extended acquaintance with
the country afterwards showed further points of comparison. There
is not one of these _kasbahs_ that has not been the scene of
atrocious deeds of cruelty and treachery, such as we find in the
records of most of our mediæval strongholds. When we shudder at
tales of Moorish atrocities we are apt to forget that they merely
disclose an anachronism, no way surprising in a country that has
stood altogether aloof from the influences that have brought Europe
to a condition of relative civilisation.
The _kasbah_ of Shedma is well placed, on nearly flat ground, at the
summit of one of the highest of the undulating hills that intervene
between the coast and the great plain of Marocco, standing, by our
measurements, 1,430 feet (436 mètres) above the sea level. The view
over the gently heaving surface of the lower hills to the south was
very pleasing. The slopes covered with short herbage, the green
now beginning to turn brown and yellow, are studded with trees,
chiefly Argan, olive, and fig, sometimes in clumps, sometimes dotted
over the surface. Close to us, adjoining the gate of the _kasbah_,
were several very fine Argan trees just coming into flower.
We were rather late in this morning’s start, and it was near 9
A.M. when, after the tents and luggage were packed, we got under
way, accompanied by our host of last night, the Governor’s son,
who volunteered to show us his father’s garden, of which he was
evidently proud. We rode down the hill, and soon reached a place
called the ‘Tuesday Market’ (Souk el Tleta), beside which we were
to inspect the first example we met of Moorish horticulture. The
enclosed space, about an acre in extent, was divided into oblong
beds, in which the only cultivated flowers were roses and marigolds,
growing amidst an abundant growth of weeds. Along with these we
noticed several beds of mint, which is in constant requisition for
mixing with green tea.
At the open space of the ‘Tuesday Market,’ our host took leave
of us. We had not thought it necessary to make him a present, but
he had no hesitation in asking for such small articles as caught
his fancy. Maw had beguiled the tedious hour of waiting for dinner
last night by exhibiting the combustion of magnesium wire, and
complied with a request to that effect by giving up a small portion
of his store. The Moor had spied a small lens in the hands of Crump,
Hooker’s servant, and now asked for that. He next begged for some
trifling European article belonging to Abraham, our interpreter,
and finally for a box of fusees, the last possessed by Ball.
In a country where shops are unknown, except in a few large towns,
the only chance for obtaining anything which the peasant cannot
raise on his own ground is at the nearest market. These are held at
some selected spot throughout the inhabited parts of the country,
not always near a village, and the place takes its name from the
day of the week on which the market is held. We found this place
to be 1,183 feet (360·3 m.) above the sea level.
Our way now lay for some distance amidst enclosed and cultivated
land, through green lanes bordered by shrubs covered with climbing
plants. As the enclosures came to an end, and we again found
ourselves in an open country dotted with trees, we observed the
Argan gradually becoming more scarce, and the _Zizyphus_ more
frequent, until the last of the former were seen about ten miles
east of the _kasbah_. Among the smaller shrubs _Rhus pentaphylla_
was prominent. The genus _Teucrium_ is especially characteristic
of South Marocco, as may be inferred from the fact that four new
species were found by M. Balansa, besides many of those common about
the Mediterranean. We here met one of the peculiar Marocco species
(_T. collinum_); and the ever varying _T. Polium_ constantly recurred
throughout our journey, from the coast up to over 4,000 feet above
the sea.
After several brief halts, requisite for collecting new and rare
plants by the way, we rested for half an hour in a shady spot near a
well. Up to this point our course since morning had varied between
due E. and SSE.; but for the remainder of this day’s journey
our general direction was about ENE. The track slowly wound its
way upwards amongst hills covered with _Retam_, till it reached
the brow of a rounded eminence that overlooks a wide expanse of
treeless plain extending eastward to the horizon, except where some
low flat-topped hills were seen in the dim distance. We had now
accomplished the first stage of our journey. We had traversed the
zone of hilly country lying between the coast and the great plain of
Marocco, on the verge of which we here stood. Leaving out of account
a few prominences to be spoken of hereafter, the plain appears to
the eye quite horizontal; but in fact there is a very perceptible
inclination of about forty feet per mile from south to north, as it
slopes from the foot of the Great Atlas towards the river Tensift,
and a further slighter dip of about ten feet per mile from east to
west, between the city of Marocco and Sheshaoua. The deficiency of
water at once explains the great change in the vegetation, which
was speedily perceptible in detail, but obvious to the eye from the
first view of the country newly opened before us. Corresponding to
this is a considerable change of climate, arising from the rapid
heating of the surface by day, and the no less rapid cooling by
radiation at night. We are already far from the equable climate
of Mogador; and although the air in the shade is only pleasantly
warm, we are happy to have the protection of pith helmets covered
by turbans between our heads and the direct rays of the sun.
The verge of the great plain over which we rode this afternoon
is far less barren than the portion which yet lay before us; and
we found several species characteristic of similar situations in
Spain and Africa, along with some others, hitherto undescribed,
that appear to be characteristic of this part of Marocco. Thus
_Artemisia Herba alba_ became conspicuous, in some places almost
covering the surface. Of the more noticeable herbaceous plants
here seen were _Matthiola parviflora_, _Gypsophila compressa_,
_Ebenus pinnata_ (rather common throughout the low country),
_Onobrychis crista galli_, an _Elæoselinum_, near to _E. meoides_,
and numerous _Compositæ_, of which _Cladanthus arabicus_ is one of
the most conspicuous. We did not notice the fragrant odour which some
travellers have found in the flowers of this species. To the same
natural Order belong several undescribed plants, which became more
abundant as we advanced into the interior of the country, belonging
to the genera _Anacyclus_, _Matricaria_, _Anthemis_, and _Centaurea_.
About half-past four we reached our appointed camping place, at
Aïn Oumast, one of the few wells of drinkable water found in the
region we had now entered. In the coast zone it would appear that
in ordinary years the rainfall is sufficient to enable the natives
to raise grain crops wherever the soil is suitable for the purpose;
but in the interior, cultivation is limited to the tracts that are
capable of irrigation from the streams descending from the Great
Atlas, or else to the immediate neighbourhood of wells. The ground
around Aïn Oumast had borne a scanty crop of grain, and the rough
surface, now baked hard by the sun, was not very comfortable for
sleeping upon, even with the intervention of a mattress of cork
shavings.
For a short way before our arrival, the main chain of the Great
Atlas had for the first time been in view, dimly apparent at a
distance of some sixty miles; but as the sun declined towards the
horizon, the outlines became clearer, and we naturally watched
with increasing interest every feature of that mysterious range
seen, even from a distance, by few civilised men, whose recesses we
hoped to be the first to explore. We discussed eagerly the question
whether some patches of lighter colour represented snow, or merely
surfaces of whitish limestone rock; and, as usual, the only effect
of discussion was to confirm each in the impression first formed,
which it was impossible to verify or disprove unless, by viewing
the range from the same direction under similar conditions at a
later season, we could discover whether the appearances in question
should have altered or disappeared.
The _mona_ presented by the Kaïd or sheik of the place was naturally
less profuse than that offered at Shedma, but yet abundant for the
needs of our camp. As almost everywhere, save in the remoter valleys
of the Atlas, green tea and a quantity of white sugar formed a main
feature in the entertainment, and doubtless the most expensive to
the poor people who had to provide it.
The day had been warm, though not oppressive, the thermometer
probably standing at about 80° Fahr. in the shade, and the fall of
temperature during the night was very sensible. Even after the sun
had risen on May 1—soon after five A.M.—the thermometer marked
only 54° Fahr., but by six A.M. it reached 67°. The observation
for altitude gave 1,132 feet (345·5 m.) above the sea; probably too
low by fifty or sixty feet, owing to the local effect of radiation
in depressing the temperature of the air in contact with the surface.
We were on our way soon after six; and, on leaving behind the
bushes and small trees that grow on the skirts of the irrigated
ground, we entered on a wide bare plain, stretching unbroken as
far as the eye can reach, which forms the most singular feature
in the aspect of this part of Marocco. The surface is covered
with calcareous rough gravel, mixed in places with siliceous
concretions. The scanty vegetation was already nearly all dried
up, and it was not without difficulty that we secured specimens
of most of the few species that can endure the parching heat and
drought. Conspicuous among these was _Peganum Harmala_, forming at
intervals green patches amid the general barrenness. _Stipa tortilis_
was frequent, but mostly dried up, and here and there occurred tufts
of a meagre variety of _Avena barbata_. More interesting than these
were a diminutive annual species of _Echium_ (_E. modestum_, Ball)
and two species of _Centaurea_—one hitherto known as _Rhaponticum
acaule_ of Decandolle, the other, before undescribed (_C. maroccana_,
Ball). In its general aspect, and in the character of its vegetation,
this region bears a striking likeness to the stony portions of the
Sahara, and we were not sorry to include this among our Marocco
experiences, though well pleased that the acquaintance was not to
be much prolonged.
Some six or seven miles east of Aïn Oumast we passed a short
way north of Sidi Moktar, the tomb of a saint much venerated in
this region, and the last spot where for a long distance water is
to be found at all seasons. This is one of the halting-places,
called _Nzelas_, frequented by ordinary travellers who follow
this road. The _Nzela_ is one of the peculiar institutions of
this country deserving of some notice. The Marocco Government
recognises, at least in theory, the duty of protecting travellers
from violence to their persons and goods; for without some provision
for the purpose the small amount of trade now existing between the
interior and the coast could scarcely continue to exist. As well
as all other executive functions, the sovereign commits this to the
Governor of each province, who accordingly stations a few armed men
at the places where travellers are accustomed to halt. Such a post
is a _Nzela_. It does not imply the existence of any shelter, and
still less of any supplies for the sustenance of men and cattle. In
a country where the sparse population lives in tents or temporary
sheds, the traveller must provide such things for himself; but at
a _Nzela_ the wayfarer may count on security from violence, and the
guards are entitled to a trifling payment for each beast of burden
that is committed to their protection. From any demands of this
nature, as well as from the tolls that are levied on passing from
one province to another, we were declared by our escort to be free,
as personages travelling under the direct authority and protection of
the Sultan. The boundaries of the three provinces of Shedma, Mtouga,
and Ouled bou Sba met at Sidi Moktar; but such places in Marocco
are proverbially unsafe, because they are the frequent resort of
robbers and outlaws. In case of a robbery or murder being committed,
the people of each tribe throw the blame upon their neighbours,
and the men of one province are very shy of attempting to pursue
malefactors who take refuge within the boundaries of another. After
the commission of many outrages at this place, it was found necessary
to transfer a portion of territory to the Ouled bou Sba, at the same
time making the Governor of that province and tribe responsible for
the safety of those whom business or piety lead to the sanctuary
of Sidi Moktar.
As we rode onward the Great Atlas chain remained in view, but dimly
seen through the haze that increased with the increasing heat of
the day, and ahead of us rose some flat-topped hills of singular
aspect which have attracted the attention of all travellers in this
region. Some of these hills extend for a considerable distance,
while others form small isolated masses; but they agree in two
respects—all are flat-topped, and all show a steep escarpment
especially on their westward faces. We afterwards saw reason to
believe that they all rise about 450 feet above the portion of the
plain near at hand, and reach nearly the same height as the plain
surrounding the city of Marocco. The general appearance suggested
the probability of a former wide extension westward of the latter
plain, and subsequent erosion by marine or fluviatile action. As
we approached the most conspicuous of these isolated hills, we
were struck with the singular appearance of the stunted bushes of
_Zizyphus Lotus_, which form the only arborescent vegetation of this
region. From a little distance they looked as if covered by some
white-flowered climbing plant, or else laden with white fruit. This
appearance was due to the extraordinary number of two species of
snails (_Helix lactea_ and _H. explanata_) that completely covered
the branches. We frequently noticed the same appearance afterwards,
but nowhere so markedly as here.
Towards the foot of the first and most conspicuous of the hills
above mentioned, which bears the inappropriate name Hank el Gemmel
(Camel’s back), the plain rises gently rather more than one hundred
feet in all; above this the slope of the hill becomes steep, and
finally exhibits an almost vertical face at the top. At the foot
of the steeper slope, about four hours’ ride from Aïn Oumast,
our track passed by an ancient well, now almost dry, and often
completely so; and here, under the imperfect shade of a lotus tree,
we made a short halt. The direct rays of the sun being very powerful,
we were somewhat surprised to find the temperature of the air to be
only 77° Fahr. Leaving our escort, we ascended the low but steep
hill above the well. The scarped face exhibited a section of the
yellowish-white limestone that appears to underlie nearly the whole
of the low country between the coast and the base of the Atlas. No
fossils were found; and in the present state of our knowledge,
or rather ignorance, of the whole region, it seems impossible to
fix its position in the geological series. The level summit is
capped by a thin layer of coarse chalcedony, in which we recognised
the origin of the siliceous fragments scattered over the plain
below. This layer would offer resistance to superficial denudation,
and account for the tabular forms of the hills, but where these
were attacked from below by marine or river action the covering
would necessarily be broken up and the fragments scattered over
the plain below. With reference to the opinion expressed by Maw in
his paper in the Proceedings of the Geological Society, and in the
Appendix to this volume, as to the origin of the tufaceous coating
of the plain between Aïn Oumast and Marocco, the only difficulty
that presents itself arises from the presence of these siliceous
fragments on the surface along with the disintegrated tufa. If,
as he and other geologists believe, such a superficial coating is
due to evaporation from the underlying mass of water charged with
carbonate of lime, it seems hard to account for the diffusion of the
chalcedony fragments, unless we suppose a submergence of the plain
subsequent to the formation of the tufa layer, and a renewed supply
of such fragments by further erosion of the hills that formed the
sea or river coast line. To confirm this conjecture, we may note the
fact that the fragments of chalcedony became progressively rarer as
we advanced from the lower portion of the plain over which we this
day travelled to the upper level surrounding the city of Marocco.
The summit of the hill was found to be 1,648 feet (502·4 m.) above
the sea and 303 feet above the well at its base. It was barren, yet
supplied a few additional plants to our collection. _Frankenia
revoluta_ was abundant, as was also a lavender somewhat
intermediate in appearance between _Lavandula multifida_ of the
Southern Mediterranean shores and _L. abrotanoides_ of the Canary
Islands. We also found a form of _Cotyledon hispanica_ of Linnæus
(_Pistorinia hispanica_ of Decandolle), with pale yellow flowers,
intermediate in some respects between the common plant of Southern
Spain and _P. Salzmanniana_ of Boissier and Reuter.
Resuming our journey, we bore somewhat south of east over a
country similar in character to that traversed in the forenoon,
but not showing such a complete dead level surface. On the way
we noticed for the first time _Cucumis Colocynthis_, one of the
characteristic plants of the desert region, extending from Arabia and
Southern Palestine across the entire of Northern Africa, but rarely
approaching the littoral zone. Here, as near Suez and elsewhere, so
far as we have observed, this plant is curiously infrequent. Growing
as it does in a region where it has few rivals to contend with,
and the surface is remarkably uniform, one yet finds but one or two
individuals scattered at comparatively wide intervals over the stony
plain. The fruits are used in Marocco to preserve woollen clothing
from moths, but their purgative qualities do not seem to be known
to the native doctors.
Here and there in this part of our route we encountered small blocks
of volcanic rock—trap or basalt—as to the origin of which we
have no information. We have no grounds for supposing eruptive
action to have occurred in this region within a period so recent as
that subsequent to the formation of the tufa which covers the whole
surface of the lower country, and it is not easy to account for
the transport of these blocks from a distance after its formation.
The direct heat of the sun was great in the afternoon, and the way
barren and monotonous, so that it was with thorough satisfaction
that, on reaching the summit of a slight swelling rise on the
plain, at near 5 P.M., we saw before us a green shallow basin, at
the farther end of which our eyes rested gladly on the abundant
foliage of gardens and orchards. A stream from the Great Atlas,
diverted into numerous slender irrigation channels, is the source
of this apparent fertility, but so much of the water is taken up
in this way that only a trifling surplus remains; and, save after
heavy rains, it seems that a mere streamlet flows northward to join
the Oued Tensift, the chief river of South-western Marocco. The
green that gladdened our eyes seemed to have given but deceptive
promise, for we at first entered on a scrub formed exclusively
of Chenopodicaeous bushes, including _Arthrocnemum fruticosum_,
_Caroxylon articulatum_, _Suæda fruticosa_, and _Atriplex Halimus_.
The same thing happens here that may be noticed in the neighbourhood
of the freshwater canal in the Isthmus of Suez. Where the soil
contains a quantity of soluble salts, the first effect of admitting
moisture by irrigation is to form a salt marsh, which becomes covered
with its own characteristic vegetation; but if the surface is so
disposed as to allow the percolation of fresh water, the salts are
gradually carried off, the salt marsh is converted into fertile
land, and the ugly _Chenopodiaceæ_ disappear. Accordingly, after
traversing a broad belt of scrub, we soon found ourselves amidst
luxuriant vegetation, and saw our tents, which had preceded us,
pitched under the shade of tall fig-trees, in one of the orchards
belonging to the village of Sheshaoua. This place is a true oasis,
and an abundant growth of fig, olive, pomegranate, apple, plum,
and apricot, with an undergrowth of grasses and herbaceous plants,
affords a striking contrast to the desert tracts surrounding it.
The vegetation of the irrigated land, excepting a few tall palms,
was almost exclusively European; and not without pleasure we gathered
many common English species, such as our common bramble, dandelion,
charlock, _Sisymbrium Irio_, _Geranium dissectum_, _Hypochæris
radicata_, _Sonchus oleraceus_, _Lycopus europæus_, _Plantago
major_, _Rumex pulcher_, _Carex divisa_, and _Scirpus Holoschænus_.
The usual _mona_ was sent soon after our arrival; and the local
governor, a deputy of the Governor of Marocco, paid a visit of
ceremony in the evening. He was a black of nearly pure Negro type,
and in all probability originally a slave. We were not then familiar
with the fact that slaves frequently rise in Marocco to the highest
posts in the State. The body-guard of the Sultan is exclusively
recruited among the black population, either voluntary immigrants,
or slaves imported young from Timbuctoo. These form the only troops
in the country that can be relied on to repress internal disorder,
though in case of war with a European Power there is little doubt
that the whole Moorish population would respond to an appeal to
their patriotism and fanaticism. Whether the same would hold good
as to the Bereber tribes of the Great and Lesser Atlas may be much
doubted. With these the sentiment of national, or rather tribal,
independence is the predominant feeling, and so long as an invader
kept aloof from their native valleys they could not be easily moved
to action. It naturally happens that an absolute ruler, too conscious
of his slight claim on the affections of his own people, is led to
prefer men whose prominent virtue is that of the dog—attachment
and fidelity to him who feeds them. When it is considered that, in
addition, the Negro often possesses far more energy than the Moor,
united to at least equal natural intelligence, it may be believed
that the rulers of Marocco have shown no want of policy in favouring
this section of the population.
The thermometer about sunset stood at 72° Fahr., while in the
water flowing beside our camp it marked but 62°. At 1 A.M., when
we had concluded our nightly task in laying out our plants, it had
fallen to 52°, and rose only to 57° an hour after sunrise, when the
barometer was recorded, and gave an estimated altitude of 1,141 feet
(347·8 m.), or almost exactly the same as that of Aïn Oumast. The
coolness of night temperature throughout this region of Northern
Africa doubtless contributes to make the climate not only healthy
but favourable to human activity; and it was impossible for us not
to speculate at times on a possible, though remote, future, when
this may become the home of a prosperous and progressive community.
Early rising does not always mean an early start, and many delays
occurred on the morning of May 2, before our caravan was fairly
under way at about 9 o’clock. On leaving our encampment, we
perceived, on rising ground close at hand, the remains of an
ancient town, with stone houses, for the most part in ruins, but
some of them still inhabited, and a _kasbah_ or castle of somewhat
imposing appearance. We failed to obtain any information as to these
buildings, which may probably be of considerable antiquity. It must
be remembered that throughout the portion of Marocco inhabited by
an Arab population permanent houses are unknown, excepting in the
coast towns and the royal cities of Marocco, Fez, and Mekines. The
country people live in _douars_, which are merely groups of rude
dwellings, half hovel half tent, usually formed of branches, over
which a piece of camel’s hair cloth is stretched, and leaving no
wreck behind when choice or necessity leads their inhabitants to
remove from one spot to another. Even the Governor’s _kasbah_,
though often a pile of large dimensions, rarely survives a single
generation. The great wall and massive towers surrounding it, as
well as the building itself, are constructed of unbaked bricks or
of blocks of mud half dried in the sun; and save in cases where a
son succeeds his father in power, the custom of the country is to
level the whole structure to the ground on the death or removal
of the occupant. A few seasons complete the work, and nothing
remains but a few mounds of clay to mark the site. Thus it happens
that in a country of which the greater part is naturally fertile,
the stranger may travel long distances without perceiving a trace
of human habitations, or any other buildings than the _zaouias_
and _koubbas_, which are scattered over the country at unequal
intervals. By these names are designated the tombs of persons,
who, when alive, attained a reputation for sanctity, differing
only in the rank which they hold in local estimation. The person
over whose remains a _zaouia_ is constructed may be regarded as
the patron saint of the tribe or province, while the _koubba_
marks the resting-place of a saint of less renown.
We soon left behind us the irrigated ground, and entered on a
barren region, less absolutely sterile than that of the preceding
day’s journey, and having a more varied vegetation. Blocks of black
volcanic rock were more frequent, and of larger size, indicating that
we were nearer to the place of their origin, wherever that may be. In
some spots _Artemisia Herba alba_ was the predominant plant, but we
met several new species not before seen. One of the most curious of
these is a white-flowered _Picris_ (_P. albida_), afterwards seen at
intervals in the low country, whose ligules wither so rapidly that
we failed to secure any satisfactory specimens. Without becoming
hilly, the surface lay in slight heaving undulations, the upward
slope being always longest towards the east; and the same remark
applied throughout the day’s ride. In about three hours we reached
Aïn Beida, where a copious spring of excellent water fertilises a
tract of about a square mile. We turned aside from our track to halt
beneath a very fine pistachio tree,[3] fully forty feet high and
two feet in diameter. The sun was very hot, though the temperature
of the air was not more than 80° Fahr., and we were assured that
our halting place for the night was only four hours’ distant; and
so it happened that between luncheon, and rest, and short excursions
into the blazing sunshine to botanise in the surrounding corn-fields,
we did not resume our journey until 3.20 P.M. The baggage train as
usual had gone on ahead; and as the evening light was fading fast,
about 7.20 P.M., when we expected to be near our night quarters,
some inquiry from our escort revealed two disagreeable facts: first,
that we were still nearly two hours’ ride from Misra ben Kara;
and secondly, that the baggage train had taken a different road. It
is not surprising that such intelligence coming suddenly on three
hungry and tired Englishmen, with the further prospect of passing
the night without food or shelter, led to a vehement row, in which
strong, if not intelligible language was discharged at the head of
the worthy Kaïd El Hadj, the commander of our escort. The whole
affair had probably arisen from some misunderstanding; but it was
settled by sending two of the escort to ride at full gallop after
the missing baggage train, while we jogged on sad and silent towards
our destined quarters for the night. Being pressed for time, we had
abstained from botanising by the way from Aïn Beida; but at one
place we stopped to gather some extraordinarily fine specimens of
_Phelipæa lutea_, which caught our eyes in the failing light. This
is the king of the broomrape tribe; the stems stood four or five
feet high, with sceptre-like spikes of large yellow flowers, nearly
two feet long, but it was quite too dark to ascertain on what plant
this curious parasite had attached itself.
The stars shone down with marvellous brilliancy on the desolate tract
over which we rode in single file, always ascending slightly, and
the chain of the Great Atlas stood out more definitely than we had
yet seen it, when, at past 9 o’clock we reached Misra ben Kara,
and found to our relief that the baggage train had just preceded
us. About 11 P.M. some food was prepared, and, being fairly tired,
we soon lay down for the night after a frugal meal. But not to sleep,
for the furious barking of the dogs from the adjoining village,
or _douar_, and the clatter kept up by our own people, did not let
us close our eyes till the night was far spent.
On this, as on many another occasion, we were forced to admire the
extraordinary endurance of the common people of this country. It
was not mainly the amount of work they are able to accomplish,
but their high spirits and cheerful demeanour under hardships
and difficulties. Four of our men travelled on foot, walking
or running at a jog trot under a burning sun, and on arrival in
camp the same men were always ready for work in setting up tents,
moving heavy luggage, and attending to the various wants of their
employers. Having often to wait till midnight for their food, they
would pass the time in lively talk, and after the stimulus of a
draught of green tea, their renewed spirits generally broke out
in the form of songs or chaunts that seemed interminable. Then,
after three or four hours’ sleep, they were ready to begin again
next morning with the same unflagging energy and spirit. During the
day the men on foot resorted to a curious expedient for diminishing
the effect of heat, by thrusting a stick down the back between the
skin and their scanty woollen garment, and thus securing ventilation.
We were up soon after daybreak on May 3. Our camp was close to the
wretched village of Misra ben Kara, a large collection of mere
hovels put together with mud and dried branches, and enclosed,
as the _douar_ generally is, within a sort of rampart formed of
the dried stems and branches of the _Zizyphus Lotus_, piled up to
a height of eight or ten feet, through which a single opening gives
admission to the inhabitants and their domestic animals. It stands
at a short distance from the Oued Nyfs,[4] one of the chief streams
flowing northward from the Great Atlas. We started about 7 A.M., and
soon reached the banks, fringed with magnificent oleanders in full
flower, below which the shallow stream runs in a deep bed. Like all
the rivers of this country, this is liable to great oscillations;
and though it seemed nowhere two feet deep when we crossed it,
travellers are said to be sometimes detained for days, owing to
the impossibility of fording the stream in rainy weather.
We found here a few plants not hitherto seen, but were especially
pleased with an undescribed _Statice_ (_S. ornata_, Ball), not
found elsewhere on our journey, whose numerous bright amethyst blue
flowers were scattered on long, slender, much-branched panicles.
On the east side of the river we fairly entered on the portion
of the great plain immediately surrounding the city of Marocco,
extending some thirty miles from west to east, and southward to the
base of the Great Atlas. This is inclined upwards from west to east,
and still more decidedly from north to south; but to the eye it
appears a dead level, and the hills represented on Beaudouin’s
map as approaching near to the city on the south and east have no
existence in fact. The north-western border of the plain is, on
the other hand, marked by prominent rough hills of a ruddy hue,
as seen from a distance, which rose on our left as we advanced
towards the city.
Some portion of these hills, seeming to form an interrupted range,
extending along the north side of the Oued Tensift and parallel to
its course, was traversed by Washington on his route from Azemor
to Marocco in December, 1829. He estimates their height above
the plain at from 500 to 1,200 feet, and describes the rock as
schistose, with veins of quartz, the line of strike from north by
east to south by west, and the dip 75°. To us it appeared that the
higher summits, which perhaps do not lie near Washington’s track,
must rise fully 2,000 feet above the plain. On the southern side
of the Oued Tensift, and nearer to the city, are some lower hills,
very similar in appearance to the others, and probably of similar
geological structure. One of these, visited by Maw, is described as
formed of very hard, dark, grey rock, with knotted white concretions
elongated in the line of stratification, the strike from north-west
to south-east, and the dip south-west, varying from 50° to 80°.
Our attention, commonly fixed on the vegetation of the country,
was on this day chiefly engaged by the great range of mountains, no
longer very distant, that bounded the horizon to the south. We had
expected to find no difficulty in singling out the peak of Miltsin,
described by Washington in the first volume of the Journal of the
Royal Geographical Society, as the highest peak of the Atlas visible
from the city of Marocco, and the altitude of which, as determined
by a rough trigonometrical measurement, he fixes at 11,400 English
feet. Approaching the city by a very different route from that of
Washington, we soon convinced ourselves that there is no summit
visible in the main range much surpassing its rivals in height,
and we subsequently came to the conclusion, that Miltsin, which
appears somewhat higher than its neighbours in the view from the
city, is situated somewhat on the north side of the watershed,
and therefore nearer to the observer than any other lofty summit
of the range. It may fairly be inferred from Washington’s account
that he had no opportunity for measuring a base-line—such as could
allow him to determine accurately the height of distant summits. The
conclusion to which we now came, and which was confirmed by our
subsequent observations, was that the part of the main range within
sight of Marocco and its neighbourhood is remarkably uniform in
height. There are many prominent points that probably approach the
limit of 13,500 English feet, and no depressions that fall more than
about 2,000 feet below that height, This, as will be seen hereafter,
does not apply to the westerly part of the chain lying west of the
sources of the Oued Nyfs, but this is only imperfectly seen from
the neighbourhood of Marocco.
The day was hotter than any we had yet experienced, the temperature
in the shade being about 85° Fahr., and the breeze which usually
rises during the hottest hours was scarcely felt. But the vicinity of
lofty mountains usually determines strong currents in the heated air,
and these must have been at work, though unfelt by us. As we looked
towards the mountain chain, we noticed lofty columns of sand or
dust, remarkably uniform in shape, that travelled steadily westward
across the plain in the opposite direction to the breeze, so far as
this could be detected. At one time as many as three of these were
seen at the same time, each moving independently. These miniature
cyclones, arising from the interference of opposite currents of
air, are not uncommon in the plains on the south side of the Alps,
but are rarely to be seen on so great a scale as here.
About two hours after starting, the great tower of the chief
mosque came into view, and one of our soldiers rode on ahead to
announce our approach. Not long afterwards we met a courier bound
for Mogador with letters for Mr. Carstensen, and we took the
opportunity of reporting progress and sending him a few details
as to our journey. In default of regular postal communication,
which is not to be thought of in such a country, the facility
for forwarding letters in Marocco is far greater than could be
expected. For a few shillings a native is easily induced to make
a journey of many days, and take care of letters, which always
reach their destination. The reverence with which Mohammedan people
generally regard all written communications—which may perchance
contain the name of Allah—serves as a protection so effectual,
that the loss of letters and despatches is scarcely ever heard
of. These couriers travel forty or even fifty miles a day, and
after a day’s rest are ready to return to the place whence they
came. The chief object of Mr. Carstensen’s letter to Marocco
had been to recommend us to the good offices of some wealthy and
influential Moors, correspondents of English mercantile houses,
and we were not long before experiencing the benefit of this piece
of kindly attention.
The heat of the sun was much felt as we rode over the open plain,
and it was suggested that we should do well to halt awhile, and
await the return of the soldier who was to report to us the state
of affairs in the city. The only spot on the way affording the
slightest shelter is under the reclining trunk of a fine tree of
_Tamarix articulata_, which had apparently been blown down, though
still adhering to the ground by its roots, and throwing out vigorous
shoots and branches. The remaining portion of the trunk was 24 feet
long, and at 8 feet from the roots the girth was 7 feet 7 inches
(2·32 m.) We saw no other specimen of this tree, characteristic of
the semi-tropical region of Northern Africa; but our opportunities
for exploring the country surrounding the city were very limited,
and it seems probable that it is here indigenous, though the extreme
scarcity of fuel may have led to its partial extermination. The
slender twigs into which the branches are divided gave no protection
from the sun; but, by throwing a carpet overhead, we extemporised a
serviceable roof, whose shade was most welcome. Though bare to the
eye, this part of the plain produced many small herbaceous plants,
such as _Notoceras canariensis_, our native _Coronopus Ruellii_,
_Mesembryanthemum nodiflorum_, and _Schismus calycinus_. The
_Mesembryanthemum_ is as common here as it is in the East; but the
last-named grass, so characteristic of the skirts of the desert in
Egypt and Arabia, seems to be rare in South Marocco.
Throughout our morning’s ride, as well as on the journey between
Sheshaoua and Misra ben Kara, we noticed the apparently unaccountable
way in which certain social species prevail over a considerable
tract, and then suddenly give place to others, without any apparent
reference to the composition of the soil. Where Chenopodiaceæ,
such as _Suæda_ and _Caroxylon_ prevail, it is reasonable to
conjecture the presence of nitre, gypsum, or other salts in the
superficial layer; but such plants as _Artemisia Herba alba_,
_Genista monosperma_, and a local form of _Helianthemum virgatum_
will sometimes take almost exclusive possession of the surface,
though this in some places is mainly composed of siliceous sand,
in others of disintegrated calcareous tufa, and in others of
decomposed volcanic rock, nowhere seen by us _in situ_, but derived
from scattered blocks of various sizes. In the plain near the city
siliceous sand predominates, and, as a consequence, the vegetation
is more meagre than elsewhere.
We hereabouts first saw the only works of public utility which
we encountered during our journey. What first struck the eye were
long lines of irregular earthen mounds traversing the plain in a
north and south direction, and we soon ascertained that these were
watercourses rudely arched over. The streams from the mountains south
of the city are distributed through irrigation canals over a large
part of the plain, and thus render it fit for cultivation. Early
experience must have taught the people that by protecting these
canals from evaporation, they could be made available to a much
greater extent; and it is probable that the construction of these
covered waterways, some of which were in a ruinous condition, goes
back to a remote period. In point of fact, the whole drainage of
three considerable valleys, whose torrents we afterwards crossed,
appears to be intercepted by this irrigation process, and absorbed
by the vegetation of the plain. It is probable that by the skilful
extension of the same system wide tracts, now barren, might be
made productive.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: For fuller particulars as to the Argan tree and its
economic uses, see Appendix D.]
[Footnote 2: It may be hoped that the plant will now become well
known to botanists, as our friend M. Cosson has obtained a good
supply of seed, which he has liberally distributed among many of
the chief botanic gardens of Europe. See Appendix D.]
[Footnote 3: This was apparently the _Pistacia atlantica_. The true
Pistachio tree (_P. vera_ of Linnæus), so extensively cultivated
in the warmer parts of the Mediterranean region, was not seen by
us in Marocco.]
[Footnote 4: The spelling here adopted is that used by M. Beaumier
in his sketch-map of the route from Mogador to Marocco, but it
is extremely difficult to fix the sounds expressing many of the
native names. Sometimes this sounded to our ears as Oued enfisk,
sometimes as Oued enfist; the latter, it will be remarked, is merely
a slight anagram of the name Oued Tensift, belonging to the main
river flowing westward on the north side of the city of Marocco.]
CHAPTER VI.
Approach to the City of Marocco — Pleasant encounter — Halt
in an olive garden — Interior of the city — Difficulty as to
lodging — Governor unfriendly — Camp in the great square —
Negotiations with the Viceroy — Successful result — Palace of
Ben Dreis — Diplomatic difficulties — Gardens of Marocco —
Interview with El Graoui.
After vainly waiting nearly two hours for the return of our soldier,
we determined to push on towards the city of Marocco, though somewhat
uncertain what the character of our reception might be. This was not
merely a matter affecting our personal comfort during our short stay,
but was certain to have an important effect on the success of our
subsequent journey, and it was a most fortunate circumstance that
Hooker’s long experience in contending with the jealousies and
suspicions of the native authorities in Nepal and the border States
of North-eastern India, and his thorough knowledge of the character
of people, who, though far removed, very much resemble the Moors
in their ideas and maxims of policy, had prepared him to deal with
them successfully. We had gained the first essential condition for
exploring the unknown valleys of the Great Atlas, by obtaining the
consent of the Sultan; but it was impossible to guess the precise
tenor of the orders forwarded by him to the local authorities, and,
whatever these might be, the ultimate result would largely depend on
the good or ill faith of the latter in carrying them into effect. The
person whose favourable dispositions it was chiefly important
to secure was El Graoui, who exercises under the Sultan a wide
authority as Governor of nearly all the tribes of the Great Atlas
that recognise the imperial authority, extending over a considerable
portion of the country at the foot of the mountains inhabited by
a Shelluh population. El Graoui, as we knew, lived in the city of
Marocco, but outside his own jurisdiction. The Governor of the city
and its immediate neighbourhood was Ben Daoud, a man notorious for
his dislike to strangers and especially to Christians, and it was
to him that we had to look for our reception, on our arrival.
From whatever side it be approached the city of Marocco presents
an imposing appearance. The western side presented an outline
about a mile and a half in length. Massive walls, some thirty feet
in height, with square towers at intervals of about 120 yards,
completely enclose it, and on two sides at least it is girdled by a
wide belt of gardens in which the date-palm, olive, and fig are the
most conspicuous trees. Here, as elsewhere, the date-palm flourishes
in a sandy soil where the roots plunge into a more compact subsoil
kept moist by infiltration. On the north-west side the palm groves,
which we passed on our left, are so close and continuous as to give
the effect of a forest, while along our route they alternated with
other cultivated trees. The effect of the scene as we approached was
peculiar and new. The luxuriance of the vegetation that at intervals
screened from view the great range of the Atlas, the majestic old
olive trees, the rough trunks of the tall palms on which stood
many a motionless chameleon; the walls and towers of the great
city seen at intervals as we wound among the gardens and groves,
combined to form a striking and highly picturesque scene. It was
near 4 o’clock when, as we were drawing near the walls, we were
startled by the sudden appearance of a party of well-mounted Moors
in flowing _haïks_, whose horses leaped in succession through a
gap in an adjoining fence and advanced to meet us. Our surprise was
increased when the foremost of the party greeted us in English with a
friendly welcome. This gentleman, whose outward appearance was quite
undistinguishable from that of his companions, was Mr. Hunot, brother
of the British Vice-Consul at Saffi, and representative at Marocco,
of the house of Messrs. Perry & Co., of Liverpool. His companions,
grave and courteous-looking Moors of considerable local influence,
were Sidi Mohammed Hassanowe [1] and Sidi Boubikir, with two or
three more of less note. We were invited into an adjoining garden,
where carpets were spread under large olive trees, and a refection
in the Moorish style, consisting of green tea, cakes of wheaten
flour and kabobs, was speedily prepared.
Mr. Hunot had spent several months in the city, and in the absence of
M. Lambert, a French merchant, who has lived there for many years,
was the only European resident. Although his thorough familiarity
with the language, customs, and ideas of the natives made his
position less difficult, he found it practically so irksome that he
was then on the point of returning to Saffi, his ordinary residence;
and we owe it to his kind desire to assist us during this critical
period of our journey that he postponed his departure for a day. The
time passed very pleasantly, and we listened with satisfaction
to the opinion expressed by our hosts that no obstacles would be
interposed to our intended journey in the Atlas; when the first
sign of rocks ahead was disclosed on the return of the messenger
despatched to ascertain what sort of lodging had been prepared for
us. When the messenger acknowledged that a very small house with but
two rooms had been provided, it became clear that, so far as the city
authorities were concerned, there was no disposition to show us much
courtesy. Hooker at once sent back a message to the Governor, that
we should require a much larger house, or else an enclosed garden
in which to pitch our tents. After about half-an-hour’s delay,
the messenger again appeared, saying that a much larger house, with
four rooms, and more adjoining if required, was ready to receive
us. Hereupon we resolved to enter the city, and in company with
our new friends, whose ample _haïks_ picturesquely draped must
have contrasted favourably with the ugly _jellabias_ that we wore
over our European dress, we defiled in a long cavalcade, followed
by the mules, camels, and donkeys of our train, through the gardens
that on this side approach close to the city walls.
Before the gate we found an officer, evidently of inferior position,
with some ten or twelve ragged fellows on foot, armed with rusty
matchlocks, posted there to receive us, and to conduct us to our
quarters; and with this sorry escort, we made our entry into
Marocco. It is impossible by any language to convey the sense
of utter disappointment and disgust which overpowered us on our
first arrival; and though these feelings soon became subordinate to
others connected with our personal position, they are those which
predominate in our subsequent recollections.
After passing the gateway we had before us a wide road, with a
lofty mud wall on one side and a lower mud wall on the other. The
high wall on the right forms part of the enclosure of the Sultan’s
palace; over that on the left branches of shrubs or trees appeared,
showing that gardens or orchards lay behind. On either side of the
road rose accumulations of refuse and filth that looked as if they
might have been the growth of centuries, and the farther we went the
greater became the piles of abomination, until it seemed as if these
would block up the passage. We had passed a fine Moorish arch of
wide span, that forms the chief entrance to the palace enclosure,
and following this as it makes a sharp turn to the right, there
were still no signs of dwellings. The mud walls on either side, on
which many storks built their nests, were often in a ruinous state;
and here and there it seemed as if people had burrowed beneath so
as to make something between a den and a hovel. At length we turned
into a sort of lane, and soon emerged into what appears to be one
of the main streets. Hitherto we had met very few passers-by;
but we now found ourselves in a rather crowded thoroughfare,
encountering a good many men on horseback, and a large number of
foot passengers, many of them veiled women. The street displayed
nothing but mud walls, about twenty feet in height, without a single
window, but with openings at frequent intervals leading into short
and narrow passages or lanes. The behaviour of the people as we
passed was singular. Some of them cast scowling looks at us and
muttered words, certainly not of welcome, which may very likely
have included some unflattering references to our grandmothers;
but the great majority went by without seeming to heed us in the
least, as though European costume, which had probably not been seen
within the walls since M. Beaumier’s visit in February, 1868,
were a familiar sight calling for no remark.
At length the head of our escort turned suddenly into one of
the narrow lanes, barely wide enough to let a laden camel pass;
we followed and, after passing the entrances of five or six other
houses, reached a low door at the end of the lane. Stooping through
the mean entrance and a short passage, we found a small open court,
about fifteen feet square, on each side of which was a narrow room,
receiving no light except from the court. A very brief inspection
showed that the whole place was swarming with insects of every kind;
and as Hooker turned round to express his opinion and his intentions,
it was found that the officer with his rabble escort had decamped
the moment he saw us safe into the house, thinking no doubt that we
had thus no option but to remain there. When Hooker announced in
very decisive terms his resolution not to sleep in such a house,
Mr. Hunot and our new Moorish friends, foreseeing a row between
us and the Governor, urged that we should put up with the house
for that night, and on the following morning negotiate for a more
suitable dwelling. As we were holding council together as to what
should be done, a number of men appeared on the scene, each bearing
one of the customary large beehive covered dishes, as a _mona_
for our evening meal. They were instantly ordered to carry their
dishes back to Ben Daoud, and inform him that we refused to stop in
that house. They said they could not take away the food, as their
orders were to leave it for us; but on the order being repeated
in more imperative tones, they departed, most likely settling the
difficulty by appropriating the _mona_ between themselves and their
friends. At this point Hooker’s knowledge of the Oriental character
was conspicuously shown. If it be often true in the West that people
are taken at their own valuation of themselves, this becomes an
invariable rule among Eastern people. It was absolutely necessary
for our eventual success that it should be understood that we were
persons travelling by the express authority of our own Government,
and entitled to all respect from the officers of the Moorish Sultan,
however high their position might be. Were we to allow ourselves
to be treated as mere private persons recommended to their good
offices, there was an end to all hope of breaking down the barriers
by which national prejudice and ancient tradition had closed the
interior of the country against the intrusion of strangers. Had
we even given way for a single day, the ingenuity of the natives
would have found abundant pretexts for evading our demands; it was
much easier to refuse the proffered lodging at once than to give a
good reason why we could not spend a second night in a house where
we had passed the first.
A messenger was despatched to Ben Daoud. ‘Tell the Governor,’
said Hooker, ‘that my Sultana gives me a large house with a garden
to live in; hospitality would require that the Governor of Marocco
should provide me—the guest of his Sultan—with a better house;
but, in any case, I shall not live in a worse one.’ In a short
time the messenger returned with the answer: ‘The Governor has no
better house to give the Christians; but Marocco is large, and they
are welcome to provide for themselves!’ It was then immediately
decided to camp out for the night; and the better to mark our sense
of the reception given us, it was at first proposed to pitch our
tents outside the walls. From this, however, we were dissuaded. In
such a position, apparently deprived of the protection of the
local authorities, we should certainly, it was said, be attacked
by robbers, from whom our Mogador escort might not prove a secure
defence. It was finally decided that our best course would be to
encamp in the great open space beside the chief mosque and tower of
the Koutoubia. Our men had been ordered not to unload the baggage,
so we were immediately under way. In the twilight the filth and
abjectness of all that met the eye were not so glaringly prominent
as before; but as we rode through more streets and lanes and open
spaces, we saw no single building of the slightest pretension,
until we entered the great square, at the farther end of which is
the tower of the Koutoubia, the solitary specimen of architecture
of which the ancient capital can boast.
The daylight was fading fast, but enough remained to show that the
spot of our encampment was anything but inviting. Go where we would
the ground was covered with refuse of every kind, full of scorpion
holes, and swarming with insects, of which the most abundant and
unsightly, though the least mischievous, were very large black
Coleoptera, distant relatives of our European cockroaches, and the
whole space was bordered by a ditch or open drain that reeked with
foul exhalations. Meanwhile, we had sent the captain of our escort
with a message to Muley Hassan, the Viceroy, informing him of our
resolution to encamp in our own tents, until a suitable house had
been provided for us. A civil answer was returned, expressing a wish
that we should not camp out, and saying that he had sent orders
to Ben Daoud immediately to provide us a suitable residence. Soon
after came a polite message from El Graoui, expressing his regret
that we had not been lodged to our satisfaction, and forwarding a
letter that he had addressed to Ben Daoud on the subject. Nearly
an hour passed, when at last a final answer came from Ben Daoud,
saying that it was then too late to comply with our wishes, but that
on the following morning we should have a good house with a garden.
During all this time we had remained grimly sitting on horseback, no
way anxious, until it should be quite necessary, to commit ourselves
for the night to the unpleasant accompaniments that surrounded us;
but there was no longer any choice, and the order was given to
pitch the large tent and unload the baggage.
During the interval we had been much struck by the demeanour
of the people, who had from time to time passed by as we stood
grouped together in this most public place of the city. Whether
in obedience to orders, or from a spontaneous desire to display
their utter indifference as to the doings of the infidels, no one
paid the slightest attention, or even turned a head to notice us
or our proceedings. Even the very boys engaged in some rough play
when we first arrived on the square showed the same ostentatious
disregard—in striking contrast to the eager curiosity of the Arab
children in Algeria and the East, who will sit for hours together
watching every movement of European travellers. By this time,
however, the night had closed in, and the great square was silent
and dark before our large tent was pitched and the baggage brought
under cover.
Soon after there appeared a train of men bearing dishes—the evening
_mona_—along with twenty-four soldiers sent by El Graoui to guard
our camp during the night, and about half-past 9 we were able to
get the rather long delayed evening meal and discuss our further
prospects and proceedings. While thus engaged the sound of angry
voices outside the tent interrupted conversation; it was evident
that a violent altercation was going on, in which many voices
took part. When all was again quiet, we ascertained the cause of
the row. Ten soldiers sent by Ben Daoud as a guard for the night
had come to take their places round the camp, when they found the
ground already occupied. El Graoui’s men warned them off, telling
them they had no business there, and when the others insisted on
remaining to carry out their master’s orders the first comers
threatened to thrash them if they did not immediately depart. Peace
was re-established when Ben Daoud’s men retired to the farther
end of the square behind the great mosque.
When we came to talk over the varied experiences of the day,
we first of all agreed that, old travellers as we all were, and
familiar with the squalor of Oriental cities, we none of us had
ever known, or even imagined, the existence of a large town so
expressive of human degradation, so utterly foul and repulsive,
as this wherein we found ourselves. Of all the places commonly
visited by travellers Jerusalem is perhaps that which at the first
moment approaches nearest to the same impression; but, not to speak
of the numerous important buildings and the associations connected
with them, nor yet of the modern structures that have arisen during
the last half-century, the poorest quarters of Jerusalem are far
from rivalling the universal squalor and hideousness of all that
meets the eye in Marocco. A ruinous house, with windows closed by
weather-beaten rickety lattice-work, is not a beautiful object,
but it may be sometimes picturesque, and, at the worst, is far
better than a dead wall of crumbling mud, such as here meets the
eye on every side. It would seem as if the most miserable suburbs
of all the other towns of North Africa and Western Asia had been
collected together and enclosed within a lofty wall, so that seen
from without the whole might be palmed off on mankind as the effigy
of a great city.
On deliberating over the events of the evening in relation to our own
future prospects, we found reason to think that what had happened
did not necessarily bode ill for the objects of our expedition. A
fierce rivalry, as we knew, already existed between El Graoui and Ben
Daoud, men whose power and influence in the State were supposed to
be of equal weight. Whether to gratify his own feelings, or because
he so understood the intentions of the Sultan, Ben Daoud had showed
himself unfriendly, while El Graoui had clearly declared himself on
our side. But as Ben Daoud had no authority whatever in the Atlas
valleys, his enmity could do us no real harm; while El Graoui,
whose opposition alone was to be feared, might easily be carried
farther than he would have otherwise gone on our behalf for the
mere pleasure of thereby spiting his rival. In this way our visit
came to play a certain part in the interior politics of Marocco,
and the serio-comic development of the story acquires a share of
interest from the light it throws on native character.
Some time after midnight, after finishing our customary task in
laying out our collections of the day, which had been much smaller
than usual, we sallied out to view the surrounding scene. The
moon stood high in the cloudless sky, wherein there was so little
vapour that the stars seemed scarcely dimmed by her brilliancy. The
great tower, stark against the black vault, appeared gigantic in its
proportions as it looked down on the strange scene below. The noises
of the city—even the howling of the dogs—were for the moment
completely stilled; our camels, horses, mules, and asses lay resting
after their day’s work, and amongst them the sleeping figures of
our men, wrapped up in white _haïks_ or _jellabias_, looked weird
and ghostly in the moonlight. The distinctness with which we heard
the occasional whispers of the guards around our camp served only
to make the deep silence of the night the more impressive.
On this night the advantages of a tent of what is known as the Alpine
Club pattern, where the floor is made of canvas continuous with the
sides, and the entrance is closed by a flap rising about a foot from
the ground, were shown in a striking way. In the great tent, where
the ground underfoot was pierced with scorpion holes and swarming
with insects, Hooker and Maw did not venture to undress, and had
to pass the night perched upon the baggage, while Ball was able to
spread his mattress regardless of the creatures that might be moving
about under the canvas floor. When his tent was struck next morning
the ground underneath was absolutely covered with a continuous mass
of creeping things, yet not a single insect entered the tent.
When we all rose betimes on the morning of the 4th, we felt
that this must be a decisive day in our contest with the Moorish
authorities. At an early hour Hooker despatched two messengers, one
to the Viceroy, requesting an interview, the other to Mr. Hunot,
begging him to use his local knowledge and influence to make sure
that the request should reach the Viceroy. Soon after arrived a
message from Ben Daoud, saying that we were at liberty to pitch our
tents in an adjoining garden. If that offer had been made on our
first arrival, it is most likely that it would have been accepted;
but, as it was now clear that Ben Daoud was intent on yielding as
little as possible, Hooker wisely resolved to insist on the demand
which he had made on the previous evening, and returned an answer
in nearly the same terms as before.
At 8 A.M. a morning meal of wheaten cakes and milk came from El
Graoui, and throughout that and the following days he continued to
supply our wants and those of our followers on the most liberal
scale. Besides a light breakfast, three copious meals with meat
and vegetables cooked in the most approved style, accompanied by
dates and oranges, were regularly furnished; and the addition
of a mule-load of oranges that came later in the day furnished
in abundance the most acceptable luxury that nature affords in
this region.
It was clear that the question debated among the Marocco authorities
as to the best way of dealing with the troublesome Christian
visitors was considered a rather knotty one, for fully two hours
elapsed before our Mogador _kaïd_ returned with the Viceroy’s
answer. We were welcome to Marocco, he said, and he had ordered
the palace of Ben Dreis, with the adjoining garden, to be prepared
for our reception. That building belonged, it was added, to his
father, the Sultan, and not to the Governor of Marocco, so that we
should consider the use of it as a mark of the personal favour and
friendship of the Sultan. The request for an interview was evaded,
probably to avoid any further demands that may have been apprehended;
but we had obtained a complete victory, and had nothing more to
ask so far as our stay in Marocco was concerned.
Although the sequel of the story was not unfolded till a day or two
later, it may as well be here given. Si Boubikir, one of our Moorish
friends who had interested himself on our behalf, was sent for by
the Viceroy, and at the same time Ben Daoud was also summoned. The
latter was addressed by the Viceroy in the coarsest terms: ‘You
dog! you slave! you son of a slave! how have you dared to neglect
my father’s orders? Were you not ordered to provide a suitable
residence for these English gentlemen?’ With further additions
of threats and abuse. On the following day (after we had paid our
visit to El Graoui) a person sent by Ben Daoud came to Abraham,
our interpreter, to express a hope that we should also pay a visit
to the Governor of the city in token of reconciliation. He was to
assure us that Ben Daoud was no way to blame for anything that had
happened, as he had acted throughout by the express orders of the
Viceroy, who had desired him to begin by offering the smaller house,
then one somewhat larger, and to leave it to the Viceroy to meet our
demands, if we persisted in asking for a house with a garden. It was
quite impossible to guess how much or how little truth there might
be in this tale, and how far the scene got up before Si Boubikir
was a mere comedy; but it is characteristic of the country, that it
should not be considered improbable. Hooker decided that it was not
expedient to overlook the affronts of which Ben Daoud was either the
author or the instrument, and his message was met by a curt refusal.
The house or palace of Ben Dreis, which we were to inhabit,
originally belonged to a powerful minister, whose property, after
the custom of the country, had been confiscated by the sovereign. In
1864 it was occupied by Sir Moses Montefiore; and a correct sketch
of it is given in Dr. Hodgkin’s narrative of that gentleman’s
mission of benevolence to Marocco.
We were told that a short time would be required to prepare the house
for our reception, and it turned out that the first requisite step
was to knock down the wall that stood where the entrance had formerly
been. A house in which Jews or Christians had lived was regarded
as unclean and unfit for the dwelling of a true believer, and
accordingly after the departure of Sir M. Montefiore, the entrance
had been walled up, and the house had so remained ever since. When
the way had been cleared, an escort of soldiers, despatched by the
Viceroy, accompanied us to our new dwelling, which stands inside
its walled garden very near to the Bab Roub—the gate by which we
yesterday entered the city. We were agreeably surprised when we
approached by far the finest house which we anywhere saw in this
country, a massive square building, entered by a Moorish arch. As
usual, the ground-floor rooms, with the central court, roofed in,
contrary to the usual practice, were fit only for servants, or for
stabling animals and storing goods, and the best apartments were
on the upper floor. These were, of course, destined for us. But the
first glance showed that in a country where animal, and especially
insect, life is so active, the rooms in their present state would be
no pleasant habitations. This, however, was foreseen and provided
for, and, before many minutes were over, a crowd of men, including
our own attendants, were hard at work carrying up large vessels of
water from the irrigation stream in the adjoining garden, and armed
with rough brooms, with which to complete the work of cleaning the
premises. Water was turned on in such abundance as to stand ankle
deep in most of the rooms, and pour in a copious stream down the
staircases and other openings. When all was done the blazing sun
soon dried all up, and during our stay we suffered no inconvenience,
and scarcely saw any insects, except a few harmless beetles. When
the rooms had been thus cleansed and dried, we proceeded to instal
ourselves in our new quarters. There was a large central room,
open to the sky in the middle, with roofed bays or recesses around,
and several adjoining, which served as bedrooms. The terrace roof,
overlooking the trees of our garden and the city wall, commanded a
magnificent view of the Great Atlas range, and in the early morning,
and towards sunset, afforded an unfailing attraction.
During this and the following days much time was consumed in long
discussions respecting our future plans and arrangements. During
the remainder of his stay in Marocco Mr. Hunot was kind enough to
devote most of his time to us, and in his visits he was generally
accompanied by Si Mohammed Hassanowe and Si Boubikir, who sat
gravely by, rarely taking any part in the conversation. One of the
subjects requiring mature consideration related to the manner in
which the objects of our journey might best be made intelligible
and satisfactory to the Moorish authorities. The matter had
already been under discussion at Mogador and during our journey,
but its importance was now much more obvious when it was clear
that our farther progress would depend on the view that El Graoui
might take of our character and intentions. We were well aware
that anything so simple as the statement that the object was to
gratify our curiosity as to the vegetation of the Great Atlas,
would at once be set aside as a false pretext, intended to cover
some sinister design. That one man should be crazy enough to make
a long journey for such a purpose might have been thought within
the range of possibility; but to suppose that three should all
at once be smitten with the same form of insanity was plainly too
ridiculous. To endeavour to explain that Hooker, as Director of a
great national establishment such as Kew Gardens, should be anxious
to enrich it by the introduction of new, rare, or useful plants,
was not likely to be more successful. The existence of any public
institution having a claim to attention apart from the personal will
or caprice of the sovereign could not be made intelligible to the
native mind. It was clear that if we did not present ourselves as
persons in some way carrying out the direct orders of the Queen of
England, we should have no claim to respect, and should be regarded
as adventurers prompted by some motive we did not care to avow.
Of course, we felt a natural reluctance to use the Queen’s name in
an unauthorised way; but, without entering into subtle discussion
as to the extent to which the acts of ministers are to be regarded
as those of the sovereign, the fact that the Foreign Secretary had,
through the Queen’s representative, applied for the Sultan’s
permission for Hooker’s journey, undoubtedly justified him in
assuming a position different from that of an ordinary traveller. It
is true that the knowledge and personal interest which Her Majesty
has always shown in matters relating to Art have never been publicly
displayed in reference to natural history; but it would certainly
not be straining the truth to let it be understood that such a
unique institution as the Royal Gardens at Kew is regarded by her
with sympathy and favour. The most natural way of conveying this to
the Moorish mind seemed to be to say that the Sultana of England
had great gardens, in which were plants from all the countries in
the world, excepting the Great Atlas, and that she had sent Hooker
and his assistants to collect and send home whatever new plants
they could find there. To this suggestion, a serious objection
was made. It would appear unworthy of a great ruler, we were told,
to trouble herself about anything so frivolous as a garden: ‘Her
thoughts must be engaged in the government of her vast dominions,
and above all in the management of her armies and fleets, and not on
mere matters of amusement.’ ‘But,’ as it was urged, ‘there
is one use of plants that every one can understand. Cannot you say
that you are seeking for herbs useful to cure diseases, and are
charged to bring these home to the Queen of England?’ Of course
it was true that if by any chance such new plants as we might find
possessed medicinal qualities, they would thereby acquire additional
interest, and, therefore, in our numerous subsequent communications
with the authorities, Hooker stated that his commission was to
collect and bring home the plants of the country, and especially
those useful in medicine. It is pretty certain, however, that the
imagination of our interpreter enlarged upon this text, to what
extent we could not of course say. How much that we afterwards
heard was serious, and how much more play of fancy, it is hard to
guess; but there is no doubt that the current belief among our own
followers was that the Sultana of England had heard that there was
somewhere in Marocco a plant that would make her live for ever,
and that she had sent her own _hakim_ to find it for her. When, in
the course of our journey, it was seen that our botanical pursuits
entailed rather severe labour, the commentary was: ‘The Sultana
of England is a severe woman, and she has threatened to give them
stick (the bastinado) if they do not find the herb she wants!’
It was impossible to decide on our future route until after an
interview with El Graoui; but whatever that might be, it was certain
that we should require a number of animals to convey ourselves
and our baggage; and we yielded to the general opinion of the
country in preferring mules for this purpose. Camels are unfit
for the rough mountain paths; and the mule is decidedly superior
to the horse in endurance of prolonged fatigue, inferior food,
and vicissitudes of climate. In a journey of some length it is
decidedly economical to purchase horses and mules rather than hire
them; and we resolved to supply a part of our wants in that way,
Mr. Hunot being good enough to undertake to choose eight mules,
for which on the following day we paid 8_l_. each.
The current coin in South Marocco we found to be French five-franc
pieces (called by Europeans, dollars) for all except small
transactions. These are carried on by Moorish silver pieces,
worth respectively something less than four pence and two pence,
and little coins of an alloy of copper and zinc, called _flous_,
of which about fifteen go to an English penny. It was necessary to
provide our interpreter, Abraham, with bags of these coins to defray
the trifling expenses of our journey. It being understood that the
provision of food for our followers and the animals of our train
would be undertaken by the local authorities, wherever we should go,
the only serious expenses we had to provide for were the purchase
or hire of mules, and such gratuities as we might think proper
to distribute amongst our escort and our servants on our return
to Mogador. For presents to governors, sheiks, and others whom it
might be desirable to conciliate or reward, we had brought with us
a supply which turned out to be more than sufficient for the purpose.
To pass a quiet evening in our own house, free from any immediate
cause for trouble, and with the prospect of a good night’s rest,
such as we had not known since we left Mogador, was an enjoyment
keenly felt; and though our quarters were absolutely devoid of
furniture of any kind, the mere sense of quiet and freedom from
intrusion made them seem to us perfectly luxurious. The position
of our dwelling was indeed admirably chosen. Completely separated
from the inhabited quarters of the city, with their noises and
their stenches, by large gardens and high walls, the only building
within our view was the great tower of the Koutoubia. Some idea
of the effect as seen through one of our windows is given in the
accompanying woodcut. It is very similar in design and dimensions
to the Giralda at Seville and the great tower at Rabat, and like
these is said to have been built by Christian captives. Including the
lanthorn at the top, the height is about 270 feet. It is a singular
proof of the deficiency of the Moors in constructive faculty,
that the only stone structures in this, the ancient capital of the
country, once the abode of wealth and barbaric luxury, should be this
tower, and the great arch forming the entrance to the Sultan’s
palace, of which the carved stones were transported piece by piece
from Spain.
The morning of May 5 presented the unusual appearance of heavy
clouds covering the sky and concealing from view the range of the
Great Atlas. This did not last long. The sun soon reasserted his
dominion over the plain, though the clouds still hung round the
higher peaks. The direct heat of the sun was already great at this
season, but the air was always relatively cool. In the shade of
our rooms the thermometer marked about 80° Fahr. during the warmer
hours of the day, and fell to about 70° at night.
It was a matter of some interest to us to study the spontaneous
vegetation of the gardens of Marocco. We could without difficulty
have obtained permission to visit the very extensive gardens that
occupy the larger part of the enclosed space surrounding the
palace of the Sultan; but we decided that we should be able to
work more effectually, and without risk of exciting the suspicions
of the natives, by confining ourselves to the rather large space
surrounding our own dwelling. To the English reader it may be well
to remark that, in Marocco, as in most Eastern countries, a garden
means something very different from what we understand by it at
home. So far as any idea of enjoyment is connected with it the
paramount object is shade and coolness. Trees, and running water,
without which in this climate few trees will grow, are therefore
the essential requisites. Beyond this the Moor, if he be rich and
luxurious, may plant a few sweet-scented flowers, of which the
rose, violet, jessamine, and _Acacia Farnesiana_ are most prized;
but beyond this, no mere pleasure of the eye is ever dreamt of, and
here, as elsewhere, there seems to be among the natives a complete
want of the sense of beauty.
[Illustration:_J. D. H. & J. B. delt._
TOWER OF THE KOUTOUBIA AT MAROCCO]
To the Moor the chief object of a garden is not pleasure but
profit. In this admirable climate nearly all the vegetable products
of the temperate and subtropical zones may be had in profusion
wherever water is attainable, and of this the Great Atlas provides an
unfailing supply to the city and its neighbourhood. Even at the low
prices of the country, fruits are the most profitable of all crops;
and it is asserted that the Aguidel Garden—the largest of those
within the palace enclosure—containing about forty English acres,
produces on an average 20,000_l_. a year.
The fruit-bearing trees planted in our garden were the date-palm,
orange, olive, fig, pomegranate, apricot, almond, pear, apple, and
mulberry, along with a few vines. Besides these were cypresses,
willows (_Salix babylonica_), aspens, _Robinia_, _Melia_, and
_Celtis_.
There were several tall bushes of _Acacia Farnesiana_, just coming
into fruit, and of white jessamine. The only cultivated flowers
were the rose, Mirabilis, and hollyhock, and a large-leaved variety
of sweet violet, which has also been found in Madeira. Of wild
arborescent plants we noted only _Zizyphus Lotus_ and _Lonicera
biflora_; the latter species (peculiar to North Africa) we observed
here and there throughout our journey. Although the list of wild
herbaceous plants includes few that are not common throughout the
Mediterranean region, it may interest some readers to give it in
full. Specimens of nearly all the species enumerated were preserved
by us.
_List of Plants growing wild in the Garden of Ben Dreis, in the
City of Marocco. Those marked (*) are British species._
*Papaver Rhœas, L. | Leontodon hispidulus, Boiss.
|
*Fumaria parviflora, Lam. | Sonchus maritimus, L.
|
——— agraria, Lag. |* ——— oleraceus, L.
|
*Sisymbrium Irio, L. |*Convolvulus arvensis, L.
|
——— erysimoides, Dsf. | Solanum villosum, Lam.
|
Brassica geniculata, (Dsf.) | Withania somnifera, (Link.)
|
*Capsella Bursa-pastoris, L. | Hyoscyamus albus, L.
|
Lepidium sativum, L. | Cynoglossum pictum, Ait.
|
*Viola odorata, L., var. | Verbascum sinuatum, L.
|
Frankenia pulverulenta, L. | Linaria græca, Chav.
|
Spergularia diandra, (Guss.) | Scrophularia auriculata, L., var.
|
Lavatera cretica, L. |*Veronica anagallis, L.
|
Malva parviflora, All. |*Marrubium vulgare, L.
|
——— nicæensis, All. |*Verbena officinalis, L.
|
*Erodium moschatum, (L.) |*Beta vulgaris, Moq.
|
——— malacoides, (L.) | Chenopodium ambrosioides, L.
|
*Oxalis corniculata, L. |* ——— murale, L.
|
Zizyphus Lotus, L. |* ——— album, L.
|
Medicago pentacycla, D.C. |*Rumex crispus, L.
|
*Trifolium resupinatum, L. |* ——— pulcher, L.
|
Lotus arenarius, Brot. |*Polygonum aviculare, L.
|
Lythrum flexuosum, Lag. | Euphorbia pubescens, Vapl.
|
Bryonia acuta, Dsf. |* ——— peplus, L.
|
*Conium maculatum, L. |*Mercurialis annua, L.
|
*Apium nodiflorum, (L.) |*Urtica dioica, L., var.
|
Ammi majus, L. |*Parietaria officinalis, L., var.
|
Carum Petroselinum, (L.) |*Typha angustifolia, L.?
|
*Caucalis nodosa, (L.) |*Cyperus longus, L.
|
* ——— infesta, (L.) | Phalaris minor, Retz.
|
Lonicera biflora, Dsf. | Piptatherum multiflorum, P.B.
|
*Galium Aparine, L. | Agrostis verticillata, Vill.
|
*Gnaphalium luteo-album, L. |*Cynodon dactylon, L.
|
Anacyclus Valentinus, L. |*Poa annua, L.
|
Chrysanthemum coronarium, L. | Kœleria phleoides, Pers.
|
Senecio gallicus, Chaix, var.| Cynosurus aureus, (L.)
|
Calendula stellata, Cav.? |*Festuca rigida, (L.)
|
Carduus myriacanthus, Salzm.?| Brachypodium distachyon, (L.)
|
Onopordon illyricum, L. |*Bromus madritensis, L.
|
Picris pilosa, Del. |* ——— mollis, L.
|
Leontodon Rothii (Thrincia | ——— macrostachys, Dsf., var.
hispida, Rth.) |
|*Hordeum murinum, L.
This list affords a fair illustration of the general uniformity
of what may be termed the ruderal vegetation throughout the
Mediterranean region. Of 81 species enumerated there are but four
(_Brassica geniculata_, _Lonicera biflora_, _Picris pilosa_, and
_Leontodon hispidulus_) that do not extend to Southern Europe;
fully one-half are found in Northern France and Germany; and 37
are included in the British flora.
About 4 P.M. we started by previous appointment to pay our visit
to El Graoui. The usual course in this country is to make the
first visit to a man in authority one of pure ceremony, wherein
presents are made that are intended to prepare the way for any
serious business, which is reserved for a second interview; but the
necessity for deciding without delay on our future plans, which
depended altogether on the consent and assistance of El Graoui,
forbade this dilatory mode of proceeding, and it was decided that
we should go at once thoroughly into the subject of our intended
journey. This was a proud day for our interpreter, Abraham. While,
in spite of some concessions made to Sir Moses Montefiore, his
coreligionists in the city are forced to put off their shoes when
they leave their own enclosure, Abraham, rejoicing in a pair of
gamboge leather boots, could enter with head erect the presence of
the most powerful subject in Marocco. Preceded by several mounted
soldiers, we passed, by the same filthy roads as before, through
the great gate leading to the palace. Perhaps the sight of a stately
procession irritated the feelings of the people; certainly there was
on this occasion no doubt as to the disposition of the bystanders,
made sufficiently clear by muttered curses and spitting towards
us, and even by a few stones thrown in the same direction, though
scarcely intended to reach us.
The walled space which surrounds the dwelling of the sovereign
appeared to be a nearly regular square, of which the sides measure
about half a mile. Besides the residence of the Sultan, rarely
inhabited of late years, and the extensive ranges of mean irregular
buildings used by his attendants and body-guard, another block of
buildings served as the dwelling of his son, the then Viceroy; and
a third group, to which we proceeded, was the home of El Graoui,
who thus avoided the inconvenience of inhabiting a place subject to
the authority of his rival, Ben Daoud. We saw no building of the
slightest architectural pretensions, or at all comparable to the
house in which we ourselves were lodged. Through narrow tortuous
passages, amidst low buildings, scarcely more than ten feet high,
and of the meanest appearance, we reached a whitewashed building of
two floors, and through a narrow door and passage were ushered up
a short flight of steps into a small room, wherein sat a stout man
of completely black complexion, whose broad countenance gave the
impression of considerable energy with an habitual expression of
good-humoured ferocity. The room was decorated with woodwork, cut
into elaborate geometrical patterns and painted in bright colours,
the only form of decorative art known to the Moors, and lighted by
a lanthorn overhead through small bits of coloured glass. We seated
ourselves on the carpet-covered cushions ranged on either side, and
a few of the ordinary phrases of courtesy, familiar to all readers
who have made a tour in the East, were exchanged. Presently, on a
signal from the great man, the inevitable green tea was served in
English china tea-cups, followed by a slight refection, the air of
the room being meanwhile perfumed with the heavy scent of incense
burned over charcoal.
After this, we, without further preface, commenced conversation as
to the object of our journey, taking care to adhere as nearly as
possible to the line of discourse previously fixed upon. Having
in general terms explained that we wanted to collect the plants
of the high mountains, Hooker was careful to add that we did not
care about stones or minerals. We had been warned that the belief
in the existence of precious metals in the Atlas is traditional in
the country; and though no ruler of Marocco is known to have made
any effort to search for or work mines, extreme jealousy is felt
lest strangers should be attracted by the prospect, and attempt,
in consequence, to establish themselves in the country. In point of
fact, we were obliged to refrain from any overt attempt to collect
even the commonest rocks, and the fragments which we carried away
were picked up and pocketed—as by stealth—when removed from
the watchful eyes of our followers.
El Graoui, with apparent frankness and good-humour, said that he
should have much pleasure in carrying into effect the intentions
of the Sultan in our regard, and that we should have full liberty
to go where we pleased in the portions of the Great Atlas where
the authority of the Sultan is recognised, orders being given
that the local authorities should provide food for us and our
followers. This brought us at once to a question of pressing
importance. Up to this moment we had no notion as to the limits that
might be set to our journey by the Marocco authorities, though too
well aware that Hooker’s engagements in England would not under
any circumstances allow us to carry our explorations very far. In
answer to our inquiries, we were told that we were free to travel on
the northern slope of the mountains that send their waters to the
plain of Marocco. The names of various districts were mentioned,
several of which were strange to our ears, and not to be found on
any map; but we retained those of Glaoui, Ourika, and Reraya, the
latter two being afterwards familiar to us. Further than this, we
were informed that we might travel eastward through the provinces
of Demenet and Ntifa, both apparently high mountain regions,
whose waters run northward to the Oum-er-bia. We were emphatically
told that we must not attempt to cross the chain southward in the
direction of the Sous valley, and we gave a distinct promise to
abstain from doing so. The actual decision as to our future route
was far too important a matter to be disposed of on the spot by
men so imperfectly prepared as we necessarily were, and it was
arranged that Hooker should, in the course of the next day or two,
acquaint El Graoui with the route which we might adopt.
The main point being thus settled, some further conversation ensued
as to the arrangements for our journey. El Graoui informed us that he
would send an escort of five soldiers under the command of a Kaïd,
and further suggested that the escort that had already accompanied
us from Mogador should remain with us throughout the journey. As it
seemed desirable to humour the great man’s fancies, the latter
arrangement was at once agreed to, and in the sequel we found it
decidedly advantageous. The interview was brought to a close by
Hooker presenting to El Graoui a pair of excellent, though not
showy, rifled pistols, which he had brought from England under the
impression that they might be useful for personal defence. We had an
unnecessarily large store of articles intended for presents—silver
watches, musical boxes, opera glasses, cutlery, and the like; but,
on reviewing our stores, Mr. Hunot decided that such objects would
be thought too paltry for a man of El Graoui’s importance, and
that serviceable fire-arms would be far better suited to his taste.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The designation _Sidi_, equivalent to the Italian
Signore, given to persons of consideration, forms no part of the
name. In conversation it is abbreviated to _Si_.]
CHAPTER VII.
Choice of a route in the Atlas — Difficulty of procuring
information — Hills near the city — Panorama of the Great
Atlas — Probable height of the range — Wild birds of Marocco
— Condition of the Jews — Departure from the city — Farewell
interview with El Graoui — District of Mesfioua — Interview
with the Kaïd — Approach to the Great Atlas — Aspect of the
vegetation — Castle of Tasseremout — Washington’s visit —
Jewish suppliants — Great boulder mounds — Ourika valley —
Peculiarities of Moorish character — Rapacity of our escort.
On returning from our interview with El Graoui, we felt that our most
urgent want was reliable information about the districts mentioned
by him as within the possible range of our expedition. Hooker
had already ordered Abraham to make inquiry for some one who had
actually travelled eastward from the city into the mountain country;
but such a person was by no means so easily found as a stranger
might suppose. The few Moors who ever go into the interior are
cut off from communication with the natives by ignorance of the
language; and, besides this, the Moor is usually too incurious and
intellectually sluggish to carry away information about anything
not directly concerning his own business or pleasure. Had our
stay in Marocco been prolonged, we might perhaps have been able to
collect some details as to the interior provinces from natives of
the mountain valleys who must from time to time resort to the city;
but it is very doubtful whether a Christian stranger could obtain
anything reliable in this way. People constantly forget how wide
the gap is that separates the mind of a modern European from that
of the inhabitant of a barbarous country, where the conditions of
society are such that apprehension of danger to life and property
becomes the predominant feeling. The notion that a man can care to
acquire knowledge of any kind for its own sake is not for a moment
admitted, and suspicion is necessarily the first feeling aroused
by any inquiry, however apparently harmless. Bearing this in mind,
we often felt astonishment at the share of success that has been
attained by some geographers, and especially by Captain Beaudouin,
the author of the French War Office map of Marocco. It is true
that some large portions of that map are quite unreliable, and that
it contains many grave errors as to the direction of the mountain
ranges and valleys; but, considering that the greater part of it was
compiled by the comparison of itineraries and descriptions furnished
by a large number of separate native informants, the wonderful thing
is that in many districts it should approach so near to accuracy as
it does; and it undoubtedly shows a very remarkable degree of care,
patience, and intelligence on the part of its author.
In the course of the afternoon, Abraham brought to us an elderly Jew,
named Salomon ben Daoud, described as a man employed by the merchants
trading with the interior, and familiar with all the roads leading
to those parts of South Marocco with which the people of the city
have any intercourse. The contrast between the appearance of this
man and that of the Moors was complete. He had something of the
downcast, long-suffering expression common among his coreligionists
in this country, but an unmistakable air of intelligence that at
once made him interesting. It was easy to understand that, although
despised and often ill-used by the governing race, these people
by their superior brain-power have contrived to make themselves
indispensable to their masters, and that all people in authority,
from the Sultan to the deputy-governor, are forced to rely upon
them. Although Salomon was able to answer readily most of our
questions respecting the several routes leading from Marocco into
the neighbouring portions of the Great Atlas, it was inevitable
that the information given by an uneducated man should fall very
far short of what we should have desired; and the abundant catalogue
of names of places—very few of them possible to be identified on
the map—which he glibly enumerated, rather tended to confuse than
to clear up our understanding of the country. With a view to mature
deliberation on a point of such importance Salomon was requested to
write down the chief particulars which he had given us verbally;
and his memorandum, written in Hebrew, was afterwards translated
by Abraham. This translation, checked by the memoranda taken down
at the time by Ball, is printed in Appendix B, and affords a slight
contribution towards the topography of a portion of Marocco hitherto
completely unknown to Europeans.
The morning of Saturday, May 6, found us still in doubt as to our
future course; but, on a careful review of the whole matter, we
adopted a decision of which we saw no subsequent reason to repent. It
appeared that if we decided on pushing forward into the interior
of the country we might be able to reach the head of the valley of
the Tessout—the main western branch of the Oum-er-bia—lying
probably about 120 miles due east of Marocco. The portion of the
Atlas chain whence that stream flows is in all probability as high
as the range seen from the city, and perhaps somewhat higher, and
the district through which we should travel was and still remains a
complete _terra incognita_, as to which Beaudoin’s map is almost
certainly incorrect.[1] Against these strong inducements we had,
however, to set many weighty reasons in favour of the alternative
course, which consisted in at once directing our steps towards the
main chain south-east of the city, and thence travelling gradually
towards the Atlantic coast, penetrating in succession to the head
of as many of the chief valleys as circumstances should allow.
The first course was open to the objection that, under any
circumstances, it would involve a considerable amount of travelling
through a comparatively uninteresting country—at least four
days, and probably six, for the route to and fro between Marocco
and Demenet, and four days at least for returning to Mogador;
and further, that if difficulties should arise to prevent us from
reaching the head of the Tessout valley, we might possibly miss
altogether the main object of our journey by failing to reach the
higher region of the Great Atlas. On the other hand, by coasting
along the northern skirts of the chain, and penetrating as many
valleys as might be found practicable, we should avoid altogether
the need for retracing any part of our course, and might reasonably
expect to reach a part of the chain whence a couple of days’
ride would carry us back to Mogador. The strongest argument was,
however, the consideration that by choosing the latter route we
should have numerous chances of accomplishing our desire to reach
the upper part of the mountain range, and that if we should find
impassable obstacles in one or another valley, we should yet
have an unimpaired chance of succeeding elsewhere. Hooker’s
strong impression that our future course would not be unopposed
gave especial weight to the latter view, and the sequel will show
that we were well advised. It was therefore decided to apply to El
Graoui for letters to all the Kaïds of the valleys subject to his
authority in the range extending from Tasseremout to the borders
of Haha, while, with a view to a possible change in our course,
he was also requested to write to the Governor of Demenet.
In one way or other the days passed in Marocco were so fully occupied
as to leave no leisure, and Maw alone was able to afford time for
an excursion to one of the low hills on the south side of the Oued
Tensift, seen on the left of the track by which we had approached
the city. The nearest of these—a rough mass of metamorphic rock,
rising nearly 800 feet above the level of the plain—is only
about three miles distant from the walls.
Our regret at not having been able to accompany Maw on this excursion
was much increased when towards evening he returned with a number of
interesting plants, several of which proved to be additions to the
Marocco flora. The most notable of these was an undescribed species
of the tropical and subtropical genus _Boerhavia_, and a curious
_Reseda_, seemingly distinct from any described species. Besides
these, he had gathered a variety of _Forskåhlea tenacissima_
described by the late Mr. Webb as _F. Cossoniana_, _Andropogon
laniger_, a fine grass whose leaves have the scent of Verbena,
_Echinops strigosus_, and one or two more species characteristic
of the flora of Southern Algeria.
Maw also visited some of the bazaars, and described them as miserable
and repulsive, and we preferred to let the carpet merchant who
had been recommended to us bring his goods to our quarters. The
carpets made here are not considered equal to those of Rabat,
but they are comparatively cheap and durable. On inquiring how our
purchases could be forwarded to Mogador, we found that the hire of
a camel with his driver for this weary four or five days’ journey
amounted only to about seven shillings of our money, and that the
risk of robbery was considered too trifling to be worth mentioning.
The comparison of five observations, taken on as many successive
days, gives for the altitude of our station in Marocco a height of
511·9 mètres, or 1,679 English feet. Allowing for the difference
of level, the height of the great square may be taken to be very
closely 500 mètres or 1,640 English feet. The observations were
calculated on the assumption that the barometer at sea level at
Mogador stood at 760 millimètres, and hence it is not surprising
that the results of each day’s observation vary from the mean,
in some cases as much as fifty feet; but, as settled weather
prevailed at this period, the mean adopted is probably very near
the truth. Most of the results of our observations (see Appendix)
agree well with the few observations previously made in the interior
by M. Beaumier and M. Balansa; but in this instance there is a
difference of seventy mètres (or 230 English feet), M. Beaumier’s
result being 430 mètres above the sea. No particulars are given
by him as to the instruments used, or the methods of observations
and reduction, and we feel no hesitation in provisionally adopting
the height resulting from our own observations.
As may well be supposed, the object that most fully and constantly
engaged our attention during our stay in Marocco was the view of the
Great Atlas range, for which the terraced roof of our house afforded
every needful facility. The interest attaching to an almost unknown
chain of great mountains was enhanced by the hope of penetrating its
recesses. We were often tantalised by finding clouds hanging about
the flanks, or clinging to the higher peaks, as happened during the
latter days of our stay, but there was always enough to be seen to
reward our attention. We were able to identify the mountain, Miltsin,
which Washington took to be the highest peak in the Atlas chain
visible from Marocco; but we had already, during the last day’s
journey before entering the city, satisfied ourselves that there
is no summit visible from the plain of Marocco that can claim any
marked predominance over its neighbours. Travelling, as we were,
nearly parallel to the main chain, we were far more favourably
placed than Washington, who approached the city from the NNW., and
always viewed the chain from nearly the same direction. The crest
is undoubtedly more sinuous than it appears as laid down on the
map, or when seen from a distance; some of the projecting summits
are therefore nearer to the eye than others; but it appeared to us
then, and our subsequent experience only strengthened that belief,
that most of the peaks or prominences in the higher portion of the
chain seen from the plain of Marocco, in a distance of fifty or
sixty miles, attain to very nearly the same height.
Washington speaks of a base-line of seventeen miles which served
him for his trigonometrical observations, but it is obvious from his
narrative that this cannot have been measured so as to admit of much
accuracy in his results. As a matter of fact, it appears from his map
and accompanying section, and from the narrative of his excursion to
Tagherain, that Washington considerably underrated the distance from
the city to the crest of the Great Atlas. His Miltsin is doubtless a
summit near the head of the Ourika valley, which apparently stands
some short way north of the axis of the chain. According to the
scale of his map Miltsin is twenty-seven and a half geographical
miles distant from the house which he occupied, whereas it is
impossible to estimate the true distance at less than thirty-three
geographical miles. If we allow for the height of Marocco above
the sea level, and increase the estimated height of Miltsin in the
ratio of its true distance to that assumed by Washington, we get
for the height of the peak 13,352 feet (4,069·6 m.) above the sea,
which is perhaps somewhat above the true measurement.
Owing to the prevalence of clouds during the latter period of
our stay in Marocco, we failed to secure a satisfactory outline
of the Atlas chain; but, through the kindness of Sir J. D. Hay,
we are enabled to insert a copy of a drawing made by the late
Mr. William Prinsep, who accompanied the mission to Marocco in
December, 1829. The view of the same range given in Jackson’s
generally accurate work must have been done from description or
from imperfect recollection, as it bears no resemblance to nature.
We had been many times struck by the demeanour of the wild birds
during our journey from Mogador. They seem in this country to be
quite free from what we look on as the instinctive fear of man,
which in truth is an inherited tendency only in those countries
where the human population habitually pursues them. As we rode along,
the turtle doves, which abound wherever there are trees or bushes,
scarcely seemed to notice our passage, and would remain perched upon
a bough close beside the track. Here in the city of Marocco a small
bird about the size of a sparrow, but much more elegant in shape
and attractive from its green-grey plumage—the _Fringillaria
Saharæ_—displayed still greater boldness. During our meals,
which were always taken in the central saloon open to the sky,
they would boldly alight beside us, and pick up the crumbs that
were sometimes purposely scattered for their benefit.
We saw nothing of the harmless serpents, one of which at least
is said to inhabit every house in Marocco, and which the natives
consider it unlucky to destroy or drive away. Probably they find
the food that suits them only in inhabited houses, and ours had
been so long untenanted that they had deserted the empty rooms.
Sunday, May 7, was fully employed in completing the arrangements
for our journey, and packing up the botanical collections already
secured. Our men had doubtless enjoyed the rest, and were gratified
by a distribution of new shoes, or rather slippers, which replaced
those pretty thoroughly worn out on the journey from Mogador. In a
country where the surface is generally stony, and the soil abounds
in plants beset by thick sharp spines, the thin slippers universally
used by the people are very soon consumed.
Abraham appeared to-day gorgeously arrayed in a new suit, with dark
yellow boots such as are worn by Moors of the better class. He had
grown much in importance during the last few days, since, in his
capacity as our interpreter, he, a Jew, has sat with his slippers on
in the presence of El Graoui, the most powerful subject in Marocco.
With regard to the position of the Jews, there can be no doubt
that the benevolent efforts of Sir Moses Montefiore, backed up
by the representatives of England and other civilised States, have
produced some permanent effect. In the coast towns, under the eyes of
European consular agents, they seem to enjoy security from violence,
and even from insult. In the city of Marocco, where they inhabit
a separate quarter, walled in and accessible only by two gates,
they are safe so long as they keep within those limits; but they
are still forced to walk barefoot when they pass into the city,
and are exposed to derision and insult against which they dare not
protest. In the remoter parts of the territory, where their scattered
communities are found here and there, their condition is apparently
still worse, and they are frequently subjected to brutal ill-usage;
but even there their superior intelligence and skill in industrial
crafts, for which the Moor is incompetent, secures them a certain
degree of consideration.[2]
We this day made acquaintance with Kaïd el Hasbi, the captain of the
escort of five men, who, along with our Mogador guard, was to travel
with us through the Atlas. Nature had given him a disagreeable
countenance with a forbidding expression, and our subsequent
experience fully confirmed the first unfavourable impression.
It had been arranged that our first day’s journey from Marocco
was to be a short one, and accordingly our final start on Monday,
May 8, was delayed until 8 A.M. Our large tent, too heavy for mules,
had been sent back to Mogador; but, nevertheless, our baggage formed
a very sufficient load for nine mules. Not counting our interpreter
and Hooker’s European attendant, we had nine followers engaged
in various capacities, besides twelve men in charge of the hired
animals, making up altogether, with the escort, who numbered
nine privates and two officers, a party of thirty-seven men and
thirty-three horses and mules. We wound slowly through the filthy
lanes of the Jews’ quarter, and went out by the south-east gate of
the city, having on our right the high wall that encloses the vast
gardens attached to the Sultan’s residence. Having entered the
city through groves of the date-palm, the foliage of which is too
tough for the teeth of the locust, we had scarcely noticed these
pernicious creatures on that occasion; but in the well-irrigated
tracts south and west of the city which are devoted to tillage
they had this year been more than usually destructive. It is in
their young condition, while still active on the wing, that their
voracity is greatest; but in that stage it is practically impossible
to contend with them. When they have attained their full growth they
become unwieldy, and at length nearly torpid; and it is then that
the natives endeavour to exterminate them, with a view to prevent
the females from depositing their countless eggs and leaving to
the district a legacy of future devastation.
It seemed that El Graoui, for his own reasons, wished to give us
a parting testimony of good-will and favour, without at the same
time committing himself too glaringly for native ideas. It was not,
doubtless, by mere accident that about a mile outside the walls we
found him close to our track, with a train of mounted attendants,
superintending the process of locust slaughter, and were informed
that he wished to bid us farewell. Mounted on a splendid black
charger, the old man, in spite of his unwieldy figure, had a
commanding appearance. His manner was quite friendly; and, as the
brief conversation proceeded, he rode along with us for a couple
of hundred yards, and then shook hands with many good wishes for
our safety and success.
The process of locust destruction which El Graoui was supposed to
superintend was of the rudest description. The bodies of the bloated
sluggish insects are swept into heaps with rough brooms, and a fire
of twigs is then lighted over each heap. On the way from Sektana
to Mogador, Maw afterwards saw another more expeditious process
adopted in a part of the country intersected by open irrigation
channels. Rough screens made of reeds are set up along one side
of the watercourse, as shown in the annexed cut, and the inactive
insects, being driven against them, fall into the water and are
drowned. Some effect may doubtless be produced by these contrivances;
but it seems very doubtful whether, if every locust that reaches the
inhabited districts were destroyed, the plague would be materially
abated. In a region including wide tracts almost without population
there are unlimited opportunities for depositing the eggs; from
these arise countless swarms, which, in their active condition,
are capable of traversing wide spaces in search of nourishment. The
suppression of the locust plague probably
[Illustration]
awaits the spread of some creature to which their eggs would afford
suitable food.
In great measure influenced by Washington’s account of his visit
to Tasseremout, and his conviction that from that place the highest
ridge of the Atlas might be reached in a single day’s excursion,
we had decided on making that our first halting-place; and, as the
distance can be little over twenty miles, we reckoned on reaching it
by evening. Our way lay about due south-east through the district
of Mesfioua, which is under the rule of a Kaïd, or subgovernor,
subject to the orders of El Graoui.
To the eye the country seems a dead level; but the rapid flow of
water in the covered channels and smaller open rivulets showed that
the slope of the ground from south to north is very decided. Along
the smaller watercourses we noticed in abundance what appeared to
be a new _Pulicaria_, but was afterwards found to be the same as
an eastern species (_P. longifolia_) described by Boissier.
We rode along in high spirits, delighted to leave the city, and
still more with the near prospect of setting foot on the mountain
chain whose unknown recesses had so long been a fascination for
us; and the only drawback on our enjoyment was the shifting veil
of clouds that hung about the higher summits, only now and then
allowing some rugged peak to stand out for a few moments. As we
gradually drew nearer, our attention was more and more fixed on the
remarkable line of flat-topped bluffs, conspicuous in the view from
the city, that extends for a distance of fully twenty miles along
the base of the Atlas chain, and on the east side seems to jut out
in a northern direction. From a distance the face appears quite
precipitous and almost vertical, and there is but one conspicuous
break in its continuity. This, as we afterwards found, is caused by
the stream running under Tasseremout, which has cut a deep channel
through the barrier.
After riding about three hours we approached an inhabited place,
which we were told was the residence of the Kaïd. We had left behind
us the tract of country ravaged by locusts, and the general aspect
of things was here much brighter than we had beheld since leaving
the coast region. The more brilliant green and more vigorous growth
of herbaceous plants led us to infer that, irrespective of the
influence of irrigation, the zone extending round the base of the
mountain region must receive at least some share of the more frequent
rains that occur there at seasons when the low country in general is
condemned to utter drought. On reaching the _kasbah_ of the Kaïd,
which showed as a low but substantial building, with walls sloping
outward, we were accosted by an official deputed to apologise for
the absence of his chief, who was to return towards evening, and to
invite us to halt there for the remainder of the day. As it was now
about noon, this proposition was met at once by a decided negative,
when the chief of our Marocco escort intervened and, with an air
of dogged insistance, urged the necessity for a halt. There ensued
the first of many an altercation with the same disagreeable person,
in which it is needless to say that Hooker’s decision and firmness
prevailed, and the order went forth to continue our journey.
Amongst the bushes near at hand we for the first time gathered a
curious, but no way ornamental, Cruciferous plant, first found by
M. Balansa, which exhibits the only distinct generic type yet found
in the interior of South Marocco, and has been described by M. Cosson
under the name _Ceratocnemum rapistroides_. It here grew four or
five feet high, with long slender branches; but in open places we
afterwards found it in comparatively stunted condition—a foot,
or less, in height.
The country, after quitting the _kasbah_, gradually changed its
character. Scattered blocks of moderate size showed themselves
with increasing frequency, and seemed to be of very varied
composition. Some were formed of a coarse-grained sandstone or fine
conglomerate, others appeared to be granitic, though deficient in
mica, while others looked like porphyry. The restrictions by which we
were bound prevented us from undertaking any close examination, and
still more from attempting to carry away specimens. The predominance
of silex in the soil was made apparent by the vegetation. We had
already often admired the pretty little rose-coloured _Spergularia
diandra_, common on sandy soil throughout Southern Marocco; but
this here became a conspicuous ornament; its numerous delicate
flowers forming large cushions of bright colour on the surface
of the soil. Among other characteristic species not before seen
were _Aïzoon canariense_ and a new species of _Anthemis_; but
the predominant element in the vegetation was furnished by the
_Leguminosæ_, and especially by the genera _Trifolium_, _Medicago_,
_Ononis_, and _Lotus_. Of the first two genera we found in the lower
region none but the common Mediterranean species, while the others
displayed many local forms. One _Ononis_ here found was altogether
new; and a _Lotus_, not elsewhere seen in our journey, seemed
identical with an Oriental species not hitherto found west of Greece.
As we advanced, the upward slope of the ground towards the foot of
the great range became much more perceptible, though still very
gradual. At near 4 P.M., we arrived at another house belonging
to the Kaïd of Mesfioua, and were informed that that functionary
was waiting to receive us, and expected us to halt there for the
night. The instinctive feeling of an Englishman who has made up
his mind to accomplish a certain distance in his day’s journey
is to close his ears to any suggestion of delay, and all the more
decidedly when there is reason to think that other people are
scheming to oppose him; so at first it seemed as if we should have
further altercation with our escort. But as prudence pointed out
that, whatever the feelings of the local authorities might be in
our regard, it would be injudicious to do anything to give offence,
and as at the same time the appearance of the country near at hand
promised good botanising, we speedily decided on making a virtue
of necessity, and with sufficiently good grace agreed to pitch
our tents. By this time the Kaïd had come out to receive us,
but retired after a brief salutation, it being understood that
conversation was reserved till evening.
Without loss of time, we sallied forth with our portfolios, attended
by one of the soldiers who was supposed to watch over our safety,
and directing our steps to a dry river-bed that winds through the
plain close by, were rewarded for our self-denial by finding a
number of interesting plants not before seen. The most conspicuous
of these was a _Tamarix_, which in some places grew thickly near
the banks. It is remarkable for the bright pink colour of the seed
vessel, and differed much in general aspect, though not widely in
structure, from the common _T. gallica_. The river-bed is probably
the natural channel of the stream that flows below Tasseremout,
part of which is diverted into irrigation channels, but during
rainy weather resumes its original course.
As the sun declined the clouds cleared away from the higher ridges
of the Atlas, of which we enjoyed the finest view we had yet
attained. Nearly due east and thence bearing towards ESE., was a
group of high summits which, to judge from several large patches of
snow, must be quite as lofty as that nearer to us. Between this,
which belongs as we believe to the district called Glaoui, and
the nearer range it was clear that a considerable valley runs deep
into the chain. The drainage of this valley must flow to the Oued
Tensift; but whether that be the main eastern branch of the river,
or an affluent not indicated on the maps, is as yet uncertain.
After dinner, we adjourned from our tent to pay our promised visit
to the Kaïd, who, according to custom, had green tea served in a
small low room, which was reached through intricate passages. As
a matter of course, the object of our journey was the chief topic
of conversation. Among other plants we spoke of the _furbioun_,[3]
or _Gum Euphorbium_, which we knew to be produced by a cactoïd
_Euphorbia_ that grows about the base of the Great Atlas, east
of the city of Marocco. Concurrent native testimony fixes the
province of Demenet as its chief home; and it must be very rare,
or altogether absent, in the districts traversed by us, as it is
scarcely possible that it should have been overlooked. Apparently
conciliated by some trifling presents, the Kaïd informed us that
he had in his garden some plants brought from Demenet, and offered
one of these, which was safely forwarded to Kew, as a gift to Hooker.
When nearly ready to start on the morning of May 9, we were informed
that the Kaïd meant to accompany us on the way to Tasseremout.[4]
This caused a slight delay, which was not unpleasantly occupied
in looking around us. The morning air was delightfully cool (58°
Fahr. at 6 A.M.), although the day before had been hot, and at 11
P.M. the thermometer had fallen only to 73°. The position of the
Kaïd’s dwelling was in itself very beautiful, in the midst of a
fertile country encircled by hills, and these backed by a majestic
range of lofty mountains. The line of escarpment skirting the base
of the Atlas, already distinctly seen in the view from Marocco, was
conspicuous on the eastern side, but towards the south was partly
concealed by fine olive groves. The mean of two nearly concordant
observations gives for the height of this place 2,399 feet (731·1
m.) above the sea.
At about 7 A.M. we moved, and, crossing the dry riverbed, very soon
began to ascend among low hills, apparently formed by erosion from
an upper plateau that surrounds the base of the mountains. We often
rode along hollow ways between high banks or lofty hedges formed
of tangled shrubs and climbing plants, in which were mingled some
familiar forms with several altogether new to us. A dog-rose,
scarcely distinguishable from the common British _Rosa canina_,
was common in some places, along with profuse masses of _Ephedra
altissima_ and other southern forms. Climbing high over all these
was a beautiful _Coronilla_, with very large white and lilac-blue
flowers. We knew that a fine species of this genus, first brought
from Marocco by Broussonnet, had been formerly cultivated in
England, though long since lost from our gardens; but the _Coronilla
viminalis_ figured by Salisbury shows yellow flowers, and is placed
amongst the shrubby species of the genus. It was clear that in the
plant before us the stems die down nearly to the root every winter;
and our belief that this was an entirely new species only yielded
to subsequent careful examination, which proved that it is no other
than Broussonnet’s plant.
The date-palm had disappeared soon after we entered the hills;
here, and elsewhere on our route, it seems to be confined to the
lower region, rarely attaining the level of 3,000 feet above the
sea. Its place was here supplied by the palmetto (_Chamærops
humilis_), which seldom forms a trunk, perhaps because it is not
allowed to attain a sufficient age. As we advanced, the vegetation
constantly offered a more varied and attractive aspect; and one of
our first prizes was a new species of thyme (_Thymus maroccanus_,
Ball), somewhat like the species of the Argan zone, but with
oblong leaves and uncoloured bracts. Of comparatively familiar
forms there were _Cistus monspeliensis_, and _C. polymorphus_,
the first species of that genus that we had seen in South Marocco,
the pretty little _Cleonia lusitanica_, with many other Labiatæ. Of
plants new to our eyes by far the most interesting was the curious
_Polygala Balansæ_. To those who know only the milkworts of Europe
and North America, it must seem strange to hear of a large shrubby
Polygala, with branches that end in a sharp point, few small leaves,
so quickly deciduous that it generally appears quite leafless,
and large flowers of a showy purple-red colour. In truth, although
there is great variety of form in this large genus, the species which
is common throughout the lower valleys of the Great Atlas is very
distinct from all its congeners. In Arabia and South Africa there
are some species forming dwarf bushes with spinescent branches,
but in other respects very different. When full grown this is six
or eight feet in height; and the round, green, almost leafless
stems give it, when the flowers are absent, much the appearance of
_Spartium junceum_, the large broom of Southern Europe.
After riding some way up a rather steep stony track, we reached a
grove of very fine olive trees, and our escort came to a halt. We
had reached Tasseremout. For some time we had seen a large pile of
solid masonry which crowned the hill immediately above the olive
grove. This seemed to deserve a visit; but, on the other hand,
the attractions of the surrounding vegetation were irresistible
to botanists. The matter was settled by Hooker proceeding to visit
the castle with the Kaïd, while Ball botanised,
[Illustration: FORT AT TASSEREMOUT.]
and Maw secured living specimens of some of the more interesting
plants.
The castle of Tasseremout is one out of a large number of similar
buildings standing on the northern outworks of the Great Atlas
chain that will afford interesting matter for inquiry to future
travellers when the country becomes more accessible, and the
lessened jealousy of the natives will make a thorough examination
of them less impossible than it would be at present. The natives
vaguely attribute their construction to Christians or Romans, the
same word conveying either meaning; but the Jews often explain this
to mean Portuguese. The general character of these buildings, as
far as our information goes, is tolerably uniform. The walls are of
great thickness and built of rough hewn stone: the arches are always
rounded and the lower chambers vaulted; and they are evidently places
of defence. There is little reason to believe that the Portuguese,
who held at one time or other most of the Atlantic coast of Marocco,
ever established a firm footing inland, and still less that they
had such a hold on South Marocco as would be implied by the erection
of a chain of forts along the foot of the Atlas. On the other hand,
the history of Mauritania during the long period of the decline of
Rome, and preceding the Saracen conquest, is an almost complete
blank, save for a few apocryphal stories. It is certain that the
lower country was once completely subject to Roman power and Roman
institutions, and it remains to be ascertained how far an organised
government survived the weakening of the central authority. That
the independent tribes of the Atlas may have been inconvenient
neighbours to the half-Romanised inhabitants of the plain is more
than probable, and that the forts should have been erected to hold
the former in check seems the most likely conjecture as to their
origin. Excavation, whenever that may be practicable, will scarcely
fail to tell something of the original occupants of these buildings,
and to diminish our ignorance of a dark period of past history.
As to the question which interested us most nearly, the Kaïd had
at first been reserved; and when it became necessary to decide, his
language was decidedly unfavourable. It was impossible, he said, to
reach the high mountains with snow on them from Tasseremout. Any one
attempting to do so would pass beyond his district, where he could
not protect us, and he could not allow us to incur such a risk. We
remembered Washington’s account of his winter excursion from
this place; and, what was more curious, we found that a tradition
of the visit of Christians who have gone up the mountains here
many years before survived among the people. When, in December,
1829, the late Sir J. Drummond Hay was received at Marocco with
great distinction by the then Sultan, it was arranged that, after
taking leave of the sovereign, the party should enjoy two or three
days’ hunting towards the foot of the Atlas, and they accordingly
encamped somewhere below Tasseremout. Washington and some other
officers attached to the mission resolved to take the opportunity
for ascending the mountains as far as possible. At starting they
evidently thought it practicable to attain the higher peaks from
this place by a continuous ascent, and appear to have been surprised
to find, after several hours’ climbing, when they had reached and
somewhat passed the limit of the winter snow, that the ‘highest
peaks were still far beyond their reach.’ To one familiar with
high mountain countries, the natural course for attaining to the
backbone of a considerable chain is by penetrating to the head of
one of the deeper valleys; and the course taken by Washington’s
party would appear no more promising than the attempt to scale Monte
Rosa from the plain of Piedmont by ascending the mountains behind
Ivrea. The mountain stream that flows below Tasseremout seems to
come from the SE., where the range presents no conspicuous summits;
whereas the higher points visible from our camp at Mesfioua lay
nearly due south. We were therefore not inclined to insist on
carrying out our original design of making Tasseremout our base
of operations; and when we were told that the valley of Ourika,
lying some distance to the west, led to the snowy mountains, we at
once decided on moving thither in the course of the afternoon. To
console us for our disappointment, the Kaïd invited us to a repast
which, like the food supplied at Mesfioua, was much better cooked
than usual. We especially appreciated some cakes, or bannocks,
of wheaten flour that made an agreeable change from the biscuit to
which we were often reduced.
Our impressions on this our first acquaintance with the outer region
of the Great Atlas were very agreeable. The country appeared populous
and fruitful. There was, indeed, little space for tillage, and that
was of the rudest kind; but besides the olive, which attains a great
size, the carob (_Ceratonia Siliqua_) and walnut, both growing to
perfection, combine beauty with economic value. The common _Opuntia_,
or Indian fig, also grows luxuriantly, and supplies an item in the
diet of the natives.
Before we started, about 3 P.M. a body of miserable-looking Jews
presented themselves, and offered a _mona_ of olives, chilis, cakes
of repulsive appearance, and some terrible spirituous liquor served
in a battered tin teapot. When we excused ourselves on the ground
that we had but just finished eating, they insisted that we should,
at least, partake of the liquor. Abraham explained that we could
not possibly drink out of a vessel so indescribably foul as the
earthenware cup presented to us; whereupon one of the women lifted
the skirt of her filthy petticoat, and proceeded to polish the cup
to her own satisfaction. There was something pathetic in the abject
air of these poor people, of whom there are many communities in
this part of the Atlas. Born to suffering and oppression, they yet
contrive to hold together, and even increase their numbers, thanks to
superior intelligence and skill which make them almost indispensable
to their neighbours. They are forced by law or custom to wear none
but black outer garments, and the older men have high brimless
cylindrical hats, tapering somewhat towards the top. They had taken
it into their heads that Christian strangers travelling with a large
escort must be persons of influence and authority, and had come to
implore our favour and protection. The men concluded by kissing the
skirts of our _jellabias_; and, as we were riding off, the women,
who stood in a group behind, advanced and kissed our knees, in true
Oriental fashion. We were assured by our interpreter, who naturally
sympathised with the people of his own race, that they often
suffer from ill-usage, for which there is absolutely no redress;
but it does not appear that their condition is practically as bad
as that of the same people in Roumania and some other so-called
Christian States. In some respects, indeed, they are better off
than their Mohammedan neighbours. Not suspected of wealth, their
head-men are not liable to be ‘squeezed,’ and, living apart,
they are not engaged in the intestine feuds of adjoining tribes,
and not often victims of the cruelties that accompany them.
During our afternoon ride from Tasseremout to the Ourika river, our
course lay to the SW., along the base of the escarpment which had
so much attracted our notice from a distance; and much discussion
arose as to the origin of the vast masses of boulders that were
spread along the comparatively level shelf along which we rode,
and descended, in some places at least, to the margin of the plain.
During the ascent from our camp of last night to Tasseremout, we
first made acquaintance with these deposits, at a height of about
3,000 feet above the sea, that of the olive grove at Tasseremout
being 3,534 feet. On the slope to the right of our track a mass
of irregular weather-worn blocks of sandstone lay in disorder, the
most prominent characteristic being that they were all of large size
(measuring from ten to twenty cubic yards, according to Maw), with
little or no intermixture of finer materials. Maw was disposed to
consider these as glacial deposits;[5] but, among other difficulties,
it was urged that the moraines of glaciers descending from a great
mountain chain always include a large proportion of finer materials
along with large blocks, and that these include fragments of the
various rocks through which the glacier flows, while it was _primâ
facie_ improbable that such a mountain chain as that before us should
be altogether formed of the sandstone of which, so far as we could
see, the blocks before us were exclusively composed. Soon after
leaving Tasseremout, we came to the opening of a narrow valley or
ravine cutting through the escarpment, and exposing to view great
piles of boulders similar to those seen below, but on a larger
scale. After this, the escarpment showed an unbroken face for a
distance of about ten miles. Seen near at hand the slope, which from
a distance seemed nearly vertical, appeared to have an inclination of
from 35° to 45°, and rose to an average height of about 1,000 feet
above its base. The upper beds, whose exposed edges were everywhere
seen, seemed to consist of hard limestone with siliceous concretions;
while the lower beds were of less consistent shaly limestone.
The ground over which we rode in a SW. direction, parallel to
the base of the escarpment, was very irregular in form, rising in
places into mounds sloping inwards towards the cliffs as well as
outwards towards the plain; and, although in great part covered
with vegetation, it appeared pretty certain that the whole was
composed of irregular masses of sandstone intermixed to some
extent with fragments of the rocks forming the barrier beside
us. To those who did not admit the probability of the boulders
before seen being deposited by glacial action, the phenomena here
presented offered strong confirmation. A glacier descending from
a main valley necessarily flows down the slope towards the plain,
and could not turn aside at right angles to its previous course,
and to the line of maximum inclination, unless there had been a
barrier of solid rock stopping the way, of which there was here not
the slightest indication. Whether or not materials that are borne
down a steep incline by sub-aërial denudation form a talus with a
diminishing slope resting against the face of the escarpment, or form
mounds at a greater or less distance from the base, is a question
depending upon the momentum with which they descend; and this again
depends on three elements—the weight of the blocks, the steepness,
and the length of the slope. If the greater portion of the materials
consist of large blocks launched down a steep and long incline, these
will travel to a considerable distance from the base of the cliff,
and gradually form a barrier that will stop the course of other
similar masses, until these accumulate into considerable mounds, as
may be seen in many instances of berg-falls in the Alps. Whatever be
the origin of these accumulations in this part of the Great Atlas,
it would appear that the conditions that gave rise to them have now
ceased, as we saw no instance of any large block that appeared to
have been recently borne to its present position.
As it was important to reach our night quarters by daylight, we
collected few plants during the afternoon ride; a fine _Asperula_,
with numerous flowers varying from white to pink, seemingly not
different from the Spanish _A. hirsuta_, was a great ornament here,
and in several other places on the skirts of the Atlas.
As we approached the opening of a considerable valley, it was
apparent that the escarpment ridge here comes to an end, and is not
again traceable as a distinct feature in the scenery on the west
side of the Ourika river. The name Ourika, with which we now became
familiar, appears to be that of a district, governed by a Kaïd
under the orders of El Graoui, which includes a fruitful valley
running deep into the heart of the Great Atlas. Having descended
from the hummocky ground over which our course lay, we struck the
valley just where the stream issues from between the hills below
a village named Achliz. Nearly all the water was at this season
diverted from its natural bed into irrigation channels that are
carried through the plain of Marocco. We rode some way along one of
these channels, bordered by tall reeds, and a grand _Senecio_, fully
eight feet high, but not yet in flower, probably _S. giganteus_ of
Desfontaines. The wide bed of the stream, nearly quite dry, afforded
the most convenient situation for our camp, which, by the mean of
two observations, stood at 2,889 feet (880·6 m.) above the sea.
Though the more we afterwards knew of him the less we liked him,
we observed, on this and some other occasions, that our disagreeable
Marocco leader, Kaïd el Hasbi, shared in a quality that is common
enough among uncivilised people, and especially noticeable among
the Moors, of which due account should be taken by travellers. It
is not the desire to please, still less real benevolence; but a
certain impressionableness, an involuntary sympathy, that makes
these people thoroughly uncomfortable when they see a stranger
annoyed or disappointed. In common phrase, ‘they can’t bear to
see you put out.’ An Englishman, a German, or a Swiss may travel
with you the whole day, when you are suffering from annoyance,
perhaps at something in his own behaviour, but will either not
notice, or, if he do notice, will not heed, your humour. In this
country a man who would see you killed or tortured with perfect
composure, can be made more uneasy than you are by seeing you vexed
or out of spirits. The disappointment we felt at our first failure
to penetrate the inner recesses of the Atlas from Tasseremout, had
been very perceptible during the afternoon; and though our Kaïd was
quite resolved to let us go no farther than he could possibly help,
he wished to do what he could to keep us in good humour. Accordingly,
we were scarcely housed in our tents when El Hasbi appeared with a
supply of fruit, oranges, dates, and walnuts, that he wished us to
regard as a present from himself, but were doubtless part of the
ample _mona_ that was obtained from the village authorities. Later
on, the Kaïd of the valley made his appearance, civil, but no way
cordial, and the result of the interview was not very favourable
to the prospect of penetrating to the head of the valley.
We were led at the time to suppose that the more or less overt
resistance which we encountered here and elsewhere in South Marocco,
was altogether due to a fanatical dislike to Christian strangers;
but we afterwards doubted whether that feeling, undoubtedly prevalent
among the Moors, is equally general among the Shelluh population;
and as we came to know more of the practical results of our visits
to these remote valleys, the less surprised we were to know that
they were unwelcome to the inhabitants. The Sultan’s order, as we
learned from El Graoui, had gone forth that we were not to be put to
any expense for the living of ourselves and our attendants during
our journey. So far as our personal consumption went that was but
trifling, as we largely relied on the provisions we had carried with
us. Our attendants no doubt consumed an ample share of food at the
one serious meal of the day, usually after nightfall, and were ready
to set to again in the middle of the night when a good opportunity
was offered; but it was the rapacity of our soldier escort that
made our visit a calamity in a poor district. Not satisfied with
gorging themselves with meat, cakes, and fruit, they demanded
luxuries such as green tea and white sugar, and in such quantities
that, as we afterwards learned, Kaïd el Hasbi used to send from
each valley in which we halted a mule laden with provisions to
his family in Marocco. An altercation which we heard this night,
and which was repeated more than once on subsequent nights, arose
from our usually pacific Mogador Kaïd, who revolted at seeing the
lion’s share of the spoil taken possession of by his colleague
from Marocco. On this occasion the quarrel threatened to become
serious, and the long guns were actually drawn out of the red cloth
cases; but it seemed that on one or both sides discretion overcame
valour, as peace was ultimately restored. Our interpreter, Abraham,
as a prudent man, wished not to embroil himself in these disputes,
and it was only gradually that we got to learn the real mischiefs
and hardships of which we were the involuntary occasion.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: See Appendix C.]
[Footnote 2: The reader who may desire a more detailed account of the
city of Marocco than we can afford is referred to the Description
and Plan of the City, by M. Paul Lambert, in the _Bulletin_ of the
French Geographical Society for 1868.]
[Footnote 3: See Appendix D.]
[Footnote 4: As constantly happened, it was very difficult to fix the
sound of this name. The accent sometimes fell on the last syllable,
sometimes on the penultimate.]
[Footnote 5: See Mr. Maw’s paper on the ‘Geology of Marocco.’
Appendix F.]
CHAPTER VIII.
Vegetation of Ourika valley — Destruction of the native trees
— Our progress checked — Enforced return — Shelluh village
— Ride from Ourika to Reraya — Trouble with our escort — A
friendly Shelluh sheik — Native desire for medical advice —
Characteristics of the Shelluhs — Zaouia of Moulaï Ibrahim —
Camp in Aït Mesan valley — Excursion to the head of the valley
— Reach the snow — Night travelling in the Atlas.
At sunrise, on April 10, the thermometer stood at 60°, and in this
delightful climate we were in the best spirits for undertaking the
work that seemed to be ready cut out for us, by exploring the fine
valley that led directly from our station to the heart of the great
mountain chain. Our expectations were, indeed, somewhat damped by
the discussions that had already taken place with the Vice-Governor
and with Kaïd el Hasbi. They did not deny that we might travel some
way up the valley, but asserted that it would not be practicable
for us to ‘reach the snow.’
It was impossible to leave the spot where we encamped without giving
a little time for collecting some of the very interesting plants
that grew close at hand. Foremost amongst these was a leguminous
shrub that seems destined to become an ornament to the gardens of
Europe. This—_Adenocarpus anagyrifolius_, of Cosson—was first
found in 1867, by M. Balansa, and seems to be common, especially
near the banks of streams, between 3,000 and 5,000 feet above the
sea level throughout this part of the Great Atlas. The long racemes
of bright yellow flowers were conspicuous from a distance, and we
afterwards found the pods, densely covered with black glands, but
nowhere containing ripe seed. Another new bush belonging to the
same natural order was also seen for the first time—_Hedysarum
membranaceum_, of Cosson. Unlike the other, this is rare, and seems
to be limited to the lower zone at the foot of the mountains. We
failed to find either flower or fruit, though M. Balansa gathered
both, perhaps at a lower level, in May 1867. We also collected
fine specimens of two new and very distinct species, first seen
on the preceding day—_Lotononis maroccana_, Ball, and _Lotus
maroccanus_, Ball.
Soon after 8 we got under way, and, after a short ride along the
right bank, reached the stream above the part where the water is
carried off for irrigation purposes. It was now seen to be a rapid
torrent, from twenty to forty yards in width, and nearly two feet
deep. For some distance the narrow floor of the valley was nearly
flat, and the moist soil was covered with poplars and willows, and a
dense undergrowth of grasses and herbaceous flowering plants. Among
these were two large _Ranunculi_, and a gigantic orchid, growing four
or five feet high, only a variety of our common _Orchis latifolia_.
The vegetation became still more interesting when we left the flat
bottom of the valley, and began to ascend on drier ground, between
tangled masses of bushes that formed a sort of thick hedge on either
side of the track. For the first time in South Marocco, we saw two
species of _Clematis_—_C. cirrhosa_ and _C. Flammula_,—along with
several other Mediterranean species; but our minds were especially
exercised by a little bush with slender twigs and pinnate leaves,
which, in default of flower or fruit, we were at first unable
to refer to its place in the natural system. It turned out to
be a curious species of ash, first found in the plateau region
of Southern Algeria, appropriately named by M. Cosson _Fraxinus
dimorpha_. As long as it remains a bush, with numerous twiggy stems,
the leaflets are blunt and rounded; but when it becomes a shrub, with
a stout trunk, it throws out leaves that approach in form those of
the flowering ash. We nowhere saw it in this condition in Marocco,
and only by the help of Algerian specimens could we have suspected
the identity of the two forms. Among many thorny bushes we saw here
one, first gathered the day before, near Tasseremout, which Hooker
at once pronounced to be a _Celastrus_. This was first found in the
South of Spain, and described as _C. europæus_ by M. Boissier,
but is in truth one of the many forms of _C. senegalensis_,
a widely-spread tropical species, that extends from India to the
west coast of Africa.
Among other novelties, we here saw, for the first time, a little
annual stonecrop (_Sedum modestum_, Ball), that nestles in hollow
places under large stones, or about the roots of trees; but the most
curious trophy of our day’s work was a miniature bramble, lying
flat on earthy banks, with small, mostly undivided leaves, and very
few minute prickles. It is possible that the imperfect fruits that we
saw had been dried up by the sun; but it seems more likely that this
belongs to the group of dry-fruited brambles—the genus _Dalibarda_
of some botanists—hitherto known only in America and Eastern Asia.
We passed near to several villages; but, as a rule, the valley tracks
in the Great Atlas are carried on one side, and do not approach
near to the houses. The valley grew narrower as we advanced, and
the moderately steep slopes on either hand were covered with small
trees of _Callitris_, and _Juniperus phœnicea_, none of them more
than about thirty feet in height. If this country were administered
by people capable of taking thought of its future prosperity,
the former tree might undoubtedly become an important source of
wealth. The beauty of the wood, if it were only allowed to attain
a sufficient size, would always secure a ready market, even though
it never reached the extravagant price which, under the name of
citrus wood, it obtained in the days of Imperial Rome. The only
use which it serves in Marocco is the production of gum Sandrac,
of which a small quantity is exported to Europe.
The destructive practice of setting fire to the brushwood is the
sole cause that prevents the northern slopes of the Great Atlas
from being clothed with valuable timber. The motive is not only the
desire to obtain pasture for sheep and goats, but also to deprive
an enemy of cover for ambush during the frequent skirmishes that
occur between neighbouring tribes. The olive, carob, and walnut,
which are planted in the main valleys, and produce annual crops,
are carefully protected; but the notion of looking forward to
future profit after an interval of thirty or forty years would be
absolutely unintelligible to a native of this country. By a very
rude process, the natives extract from the trunks and branches of
_Juniperus phœnicea_ a sort of tar which is said to be a useful
application in wounds and sores of men and animals.
As we continued to advance, the valley narrowed almost to a defile,
and the track, carried along rather steep slopes, became difficult
for laden animals, though not worse than one commonly meets in high
mountain countries, nor nearly so bad as some that we afterwards
traversed in the Atlas. Presently, Abraham announced that Kaïd
el Hasbi declared the track too bad for farther progress of the
baggage mules. As it was apparent that the valley widened out a
short way ahead, and that the _mauvais pas_ would soon come to
an end, we turned deaf ears to the remark, and rode doggedly on
for a short distance farther, encouraged by the view in front,
which disclosed a long reach of valley, running deep into the
heart of the great chain. Shortly after, those who were in front
became aware that a vehement discussion was going on at the centre
of our scattered line. The energy of our interpreter was taxed to
the utmost in striving to render the emphatic sentences that were
exchanged between Hooker and Kaïd el Hasbi, supplemented by the
pantomimic gestures of the latter.
The gist of the argument was to the effect that even if we did
go some way farther, at the risk of our baggage animals rolling
down into the torrent—one of them had already slipped, and had a
narrow escape—our progress to the head of the valley was out of
the question, as the people there were in full revolt, and would
not recognise the authority of the Sultan. We were inclined at the
moment, and afterwards, to believe that this was a lie trumped up for
the occasion; but the story might possibly be true, and, whether it
were so or not, it was clearly impossible for us to proceed against
the positive and determined opposition of our escort. With feelings
of bitter disappointment we dismounted, and ordered that the baggage
should return to a village near which we had passed an hour before,
while we climbed to the top of a projecting spur of the mountain,
commanding a view of the upper valley. For the moment, our interest
in the vegetation yielded to the attractions of the scenery, and
our curiosity as to the nature of the great mountain chain that
rose steeply before us, seamed with snow that nowhere formed wide
fields of _névé_, but lay in hollows and ravines forming long
vertical streaks throughout the upper zone of several thousand
feet in height. About two miles ahead of us the valley forks, the
main branch from SSE. receiving a tributary from the S. or SSW. On
a lofty spur between the two streams stood a village, conspicuous
from a distance.
To be turned back at the very moment when the main object of our
journey lay before our eyes, and that on pretexts that we utterly
disbelieved, was sufficiently aggravating; and it was not in the
most cheerful humour that, about mid-day, we retraced our steps
down the valley, and, yielding to the suggestions of our escort,
halted at the olive grove beside the village which we had noticed
during our ascent. This was the first Shelluh village that we had
been able to inspect nearly, and it was of the same type which we
afterwards found throughout the mountain region. Unlike the Arabs,
the Berebers always use stone for building when it is available. The
walls are thick and solid below, but rudely constructed, and the
upper portions are sometimes put together with mud and small pieces
of stone. There is usually an upper story extending over the whole or
part of the ground floor, and the roofs are flat and made tolerably
water-tight with mortar or cement. In structure and appearance they
reminded Hooker of the village houses of the mountaineers of Bhotan.
We collected a good many specimens during the afternoon, but were
able to add little to the list of species already noted in the
valley. The most important business in hand was to bring to book
our enemy Kaïd el Hasbi—for so we began to consider him—and
ascertain clearly whether he did or did not mean to carry out the
orders of the Sultan, and convey us to some point within reach of
the upper regions of the mountains. When pressed on this point, he
distinctly declared that from Reraya—the next adjoining district
to the west—we should be able to ‘reach the snow;’ and with
that assurance we had to satisfy ourselves, and give such orders
that the next evening should find us in the desired district.
The name of the village was differently noted by the members of
the party; Assghin, as it is entered in Hooker’s notes, by an
observation taken this afternoon, with the thermometer in the shade
at 72° Fahr., stands at 3,427 feet (1,044·4 m.) above the sea. Up
to this our observations had been reduced on the assumption that the
pressure at sea level was exactly 760 millimetres; but henceforward
we had the advantage of direct comparison with observations recorded
twice a day at Mogador.
The evening was fine, but flashes of lightning were seen to the
SE. after dark, and during the night fresh snow fell on the higher
ridges, which looked brilliant on the early morning of April 11,
but rapidly melted under the mid-day sun. We started rather late,
about 8 A.M., and by 10.30 had returned to the site of our former
camp in the broad bed of the stream below Achliz. Here our ill-humour
was increased by a long and quite unnecessary delay. As a rule,
a light luncheon was all that was consumed at our mid-day halt, the
men being content with some fragments of the _mona_ of the previous
night. But our greedy soldiers had requisitioned a further _mona_,
nominally on our behalf, from the adjoining village, and were
determined not to move forward until it was supplied. When Hooker
happened to surprise our Mogador Kaïd in the act of secreting a
quantity of tea and sugar, the old fellow in self-defence began to
narrate the misdeeds of his colleague, and so gave us a clearer
notion than we before had of the sort of abuses that pervade the
whole fabric of Moorish administration. It is true that one is told
that the value of goods requisitioned in this way by Government
officers is allowed to the villages as payment on account of taxes;
but the poor country people tell a different tale, and it is probable
that any allowance made on this head is quite inadequate.
It was 2.30 P.M. when we were at last able to start, and, as we
knew that there was still some distance to travel, we had but very
little time for botanising during the afternoon ride. Our way lay
for more than two hours along the base of the hills, whose forms
were much of the pattern usually seen where a high mountain rises
from a plain country. The ridges dividing the main valleys gradually
diminish in height as they recede from the axis, and ultimately
are weather-worn into eminences of a more or less conical form,
which project to an unequal distance towards the plain.
Towards five o’clock we began to ascend to a low pass connecting
a long projecting spur to the right with the main mass of the hills
on our left. Up to this we had seen a good many scattered blocks of
sandstone, but nowhere forming mounds. We now came on limestone—
showing traces of fossils. The hills hereabouts were bare of trees,
with a thick growth of palmetto, bushy _Labiatæ_, _Helianthemum_,
and perennial grasses, except where, under tillage, they produce
good crops of red-bearded wheat. From the first pass we descended
rather steeply to cross a narrow torrent bed, and reascend to a
second somewhat higher pass, reached at 6 P.M., which we found to
be 3,590 feet (1,094·3 m.) above the sea, or just 700 feet above
the river at the mouth of the Ourika valley. The country here
appears to be fully peopled. We saw several villages, and one or
two quadrangular buildings of larger size, probably the dwellings
of local sheiks. We had during most of the way wide views over the
plain of Marocco, and were able to distinguish the city itself,
with the great tower of the Koutoubia and the extensive palm
groves on its western side. Slight undulations of the ground are
not perceptible when seen from above; but it was quite clear to us
that nothing deserving to be called a hill breaks the uniformity
of the gentle slope with which the plain subsides from the base of
the Atlas to the region traversed by us on our road from Mogador.
The monotony of the march was diversified by another furious quarrel
between the officers of our escort. Whatever may have been the
pretext, the cause was doubtless the mutual ill blood arising from
the disputes over their respective shares of the spoil obtained
from the villagers. Not content with volleys of guttural abuse,
and seemingly ferocious threats, they appeared intent on serious
mischief, and proceeded to unpack their long guns. Luckily these
were securely wrapped up in complicated covers of red cloth, and,
before the combatants were ready for action, prudence once more
restrained valour, and the storm passed away in sullen growlings
and mutterings of future vengeance. It sometimes struck us that
if there were such things as professional brigands in Marocco,
we might have been robbed or murdered with perfect safety before
one of the guns of our escort had been extracted from its case,
and made ready for use.
Indignant, as we were, at the rapacity of our escort, we assured
ourselves, when we came to know more of the country, that there is
a great deal of human nature among the Moors, as there is amongst
most of the people that travellers make acquaintance with, and
that the conduct of the soldiers and their officers was pretty
much what might be expected from any other men put in the same
position. The pay of a captain in the regular army is equivalent
to 4_s_. 2_d_. per month, and that of the men not nearly enough to
support life, even allowing for the frugal habits of the people. It
is only natural that when the opportunity is offered, along with
the certainty of impunity, they should make the most of it, as
they certainly do. In some places, as we afterwards learned, they
were not satisfied with the large supplies that they requisitioned,
but demanded and obtained money from the village authorities.
From the summit of the second pass, the track descends about 400
feet into a broad valley, well wooded with olive, carob, and other
cultivated trees.
Soon after seven o’clock we reached a convenient spot on flat
ground, beside a rapid stream, near a village called Tassilunt. The
scenery here was very picturesque, although we had no view of the
higher part of the chain. The nearer mountains were of a deep red
colour—probably sandstone—contrasting finely with the rich green
of trees and shrubs that covered most of the slopes. The floor of
the valley here, as in most parts of the range that we visited,
is chiefly devoted to olive cultivation, poor crops of grain being
raised beneath the trees.
The sheik of the village soon presented himself, and before long an
abundant _mona_ was brought to the tent door, and laid, according
to custom, at Hooker’s feet. Five large dishes of cooked meat
and keskossou, and piles of wheaten cakes, were designed to stay
or to whet the appetites of the party; while a sheep, twelve fowls,
fifty eggs, and five pounds of butter formed a provision for their
future wants. When it is remembered that nearly as much more cooked
food was supplied in the morning, it may be imagined that the tax
on the resources of a poor mountain village was not trifling.
We had now entered the district of Reraya, which is under the
rule of El Graoui, represented by one or more deputies. The whole
population, excepting some miserable-looking Jews, is Shelluh;
but here, as everywhere among the Berebers, these are divided into
tribes or clans, who are often at feud, and always jealous and
suspicious of each other. There is generally a superior chief or
sheik, having a wide, but ill-defined authority over the whole clan;
but among those that recognise the Sultan’s paramount temporal
as well as spiritual supremacy, this is subordinate to that of the
Governor. In this part of the Great Atlas, the clans, as well as
the districts named after them, preserve the Shelluh patronymic
of _Aït_; but the Bereber tribes of the high ranges E. and SE. of
Fez have generally adopted the Arabic _Beni_, as with the powerful
tribes, Beni Mtir and Mghill. One of the many difficulties of the
geographer in this country arises from the practice of naming each
district from the tribe that inhabits it, and the fact that, either
from compulsion, or a taste for migration, it is not uncommon for
a tribe to remove from one valley to another. The next valley to
that where we now were was called at this time Aït Mesan; but if
the Aït Mesan should take possession of some neighbouring valley,
or be driven out by a stronger tribe, the traveller who visits the
country some years hence may find the Aït Mesan valley in quite
another place from that which we have described.
Our chief anxiety now, was to ascertain that the promise held out,
of penetrating to the inner recesses of the Great Atlas in the
district of Reraya, was to be realised. We were told that in the next
adjoining valley we should reach a place only two hours’ journey
from the snow, and that the sheik of that valley had been summoned,
and would arrive on the next morning. At the same time, whether
from ignorance or a design to mislead us, El Hasbi’s language was
decidedly vague and confused, and, after the experience of the last
few days, there was no reason to feel the slightest confidence in
his assurances. Hooker therefore decided on bringing matters to
a point by informing El Hasbi that if any further difficulty was
made, he should despatch a courier with letters for El Graoui and
the Viceroy at Marocco, saying that the commander of our escort
has failed to carry out the Sultan’s orders, and requesting that
another should be sent in his place. As this was the last thing to
suit El Hasbi’s book, he became profuse in assurances of devotion
to our wishes, and for some days, at least, we had no reason to
suspect him of further machinations to defeat our plans.
In point of fact, a courier was sent on the following day with a
letter for El Graoui. It was desirable to obtain the direct sanction
of the authorities for our intention to remain several days in the
district we had now reached, and to make it understood that this
would be essential for the object of our journey.
A further topic requiring some previous arrangement arose from
Maw’s desire to return to England as soon as possible, after
effecting the desired ascent to the higher region.
Our camp, which stood at 3,160 feet (963·1 m.) above the sea,
was in a pleasant and sheltered position, and the temperature
was thoroughly enjoyable. The relative coolness of the nights was
not, indeed, so remarkable here as in the plain, for the actual
temperature was pretty much the same, while that of the shade of
day, which at this season, there usually rises somewhat over 80°
Fahr., rarely exceeded 70° in the lower zone of the Great Atlas,
however powerful might be the direct rays of the sun for several
hours in each day. Towards dawn the air was usually keen, often
almost cold; and at the hour which, when possible, was selected
for observation—about one hour after sunrise—Fahrenheit’s
thermometer, as well in the plain as in the main valleys of the
Atlas, usually ranged from 56° to 60°. It will be seen that this
country, when made accessible to civilised Europe, will supply
the nearest approach yet discovered to the perfection of climate,
whether for health or enjoyment.
The morning of May 12 was in every sense a busy one. During
our afternoon ride of the day before, one of the baggage mules,
while following a narrow track along the bank of a watercourse,
had slipped into the stream, and a large parcel of Hooker’s
plants had been thoroughly soaked. Several hours of the night,
and the early morning, were consumed in repairing the damage,
by laying the plants in dry paper, and drying in the sun that
which was wet. Then came the important affair on which our hearts
were mainly set. The sheik of the Aït Mesan valley had arrived,
and it was necessary by a judicious combination of compulsion and
conciliation to secure his co-operation in our undertaking. It was
true that the orders of his superior, El Graoui, if duly conveyed
by our escort, should alone have sufficed for our purpose; but
we had already learned that, by a mutual understanding between
the treacherous El Hasbi and the local authorities, our progress
could at any moment be effectually barred. How were we to detect
and expose the falsehood of the stories that were daily trumped up,
and were seemingly accepted for truth by our own attendants?
The sheik appeared sufficiently cordial, especially when he was made
to understand that, in case we were satisfied, he should receive
a handsome present; and it was arranged that our next camp should
be fixed at a spot within reach of the snow.
When the time for our departure drew near, a fresh, but not quite
unforeseen, cause for delay presented itself, by the appearance in
our camp of a crowd of native applicants for medical advice. Before
leaving England we had been advised not to neglect the surest means
for conciliating the good will of an African population, and had
fortunately provided ourselves with a sufficient stock of common
medicines. Even an ordinary traveller, with no more knowledge of
medicine than the elementary notions possessed by most educated
persons, may safely apply simple remedies in many of the cases of
sickness that commonly occur among uncivilised people; but in our
case there was no occasion for rash experiments, as Hooker’s
medical knowledge and skill were more than sufficient for the
needs of the patients who flocked in considerable numbers to ask
for advice. From this time forward, except in one or two places
where the people were withheld by the bigotry of the authorities,
this became one of the daily demands upon his time and patience.
To judge from our own observation of the Shelluh people, and the
experience of French travellers among the Kabyles, it seems probable
that a traveller having some knowledge of the Bereber language,
and a little medical skill, who could once make his way among
the independent tribes of East Marocco, might safely explore the
unknown portions of the Great Atlas. The first condition would
be, that he should be able to overcome or evade the obstacles
that would be put in his way by the Moorish authorities; and the
second, that he should avoid treating any case that was likely to
have a fatal termination. The position of an infidel stranger who
might be supposed to be accessory to the death of a native of one
of these wild tribes would doubtless be very perilous. The only
branch of natural history that could be followed by a traveller
under such conditions would be botany. In collecting plants he
would be supposed to be following his proper avocation; whereas
the slightest attention given to stones or minerals would be set
down to a search for treasure.
The Shelluh population of the Great Atlas is strikingly different
from the Arab stock, but scarcely to be distinguished in appearance
from the cognate Bereber races, the Riff mountaineers of North
Marocco, and the Kabyles of Algeria. Long faces, of a deep sallow
complexion, high cheek-bones, eyes closely set and not so dark as
those of the Moors and Arabs, are the prevailing types. The hair
is cut short, and the use of the turban seems to be confined to the
women. The men, when they use an upper garment, wear a black cloak
or large cape of goat’s hair or camel’s hair, into which is
inserted on the back an angular patch of red woollen stuff. Their
character seems even more different from the Arab type than their
aspect. The Arab hates work, takes to it occasionally from necessity,
but passes his time so far as he can between talk, story-telling,
and song, and dreamy contemplation, in which he is helped by
the habitual use of _kief_, prepared from Indian hemp, the local
substitute for tobacco. The Shelluh, on the contrary, is active
and hardworking. He has some natural fitness and acquired skill in
agriculture. His intelligence is readier for all practical purposes;
and, in spite of difficulties of language, which generally involved
a double process of interpreting between us and the natives, we
found it much easier to obtain information on any matter of interest
than from the Arabs. Intense curiosity was always shown by them in
our proceedings, and a circle of people from the nearest village,
standing hand-in-hand, generally encompassed our camp.
During the morning Maw amused and interested the people by showing
a little practice with a small English rifle. The long flint-lock
guns and bad gunpowder used in this country form such ineffective
weapons that the people cannot conceive the possibility of every
shot telling. This accounts for the fact that in the frequent
skirmishes that arise between neighbouring tribes so little damage
is usually done. Several hundred men may spend the day in firing
at each other; a vast quantity of ammunition may be consumed; but
the list of casualties on both sides seldom exceeds half a dozen
killed and wounded.
At 11 A.M. we left our camping ground, and began to ascend the
valley, soon approaching the banks of the stream, which was
everywhere easily fordable. In places where it has cut a channel
through sandstone rock there was space to ride along the bed, and we
here found several rock-plants of some interest. The most conspicuous
was the European _Catananche cærulea_, not before seen by us,
but extremely common in the interior valleys of the Great Atlas,
growing two or three feet high in the warm zone, and dwindling to a
few inches in colder and exposed stations. Of greater interest was
_Selaginella rupestris_, a species of club-moss that makes the round
of the world in the tropics, but is very rare outside those limits.
Before long we began to ascend the slopes on the western side of the
valley. The hill was covered with a dense growth of shrubs and low
bushes, in great part evergreen, and had more the characteristic
aspect of the region surrounding the shores of the Mediterranean
than anything we had seen since leaving Tangier. But, although there
were several identical species, the differences were very marked,
and a single glance sufficed to show that we were far removed from
the flora of North Marocco. The arbutus was the sole representative
of its natural order, and no heath extends to the Great Atlas. The
oak-scrub, in this and the neighbouring valleys, is all formed of
some form of the evergreen oak, _Quercus lusitanica_, _Q. coccifera_,
and the allied forms being all absent. The Alaternus is common
to both regions, but a narrow-leaved form of _Rhamnus oleoides_
is here more common. Seven species of Cistus that adorn the hills
in North Marocco are on the slopes of the Great Atlas reduced
to two, and those the least conspicuous. On the other hand, the
number of bushy Labiatæ was here largely increased, and included
many peculiar species not known to grow elsewhere; and there were
many _Umbelliferæ_, of which several were not yet sufficiently
advanced for recognition. Of _Leguminosæ_, which everywhere play
a conspicuous part in the flora of this region, the most striking
novelty was a new _Coronilla_ (_C. ramosissima_, Ball), that forms
a low bush, with very numerous slender intricate branches, covered
at this season with rather small yellow flowers. In the midst of
so much that was strange to the eye, it was pleasant to see two
familiar European orchids, _Orchis pyramidalis_ and _Ophrys apifera_.
There was something comical in the effect of our long _cortège_,
with the escort swollen to-day by the addition of three sheiks of
the valley, winding solemnly up the slope of the mountain, but thrown
every now and then into general excitement by the appearance of some
unpretending plant. The order ‘catch him flower’ would then
issue to the native attendants, or one or other of the travellers
would set foot to ground the better to inspect it. But any sense
of incongruity between the pomp and circumstance of our mode of
travelling and the simple nature of our favourite occupation was
lost on the natives. To them one pursuit of civilised man is as
unintelligible as another, and they can conceive no other serious
occupation for men not forced to labour than war or hunting. It is
a curious instance of the survival of barbarous instincts, that
a good many people in our own islands, who imagine themselves to
belong to the upper classes of society, have scarcely advanced a
step beyond the mental condition of the Shelluh mountaineer.
We passed a village where we noticed some rude oil mills; and, after
an ascent of about a thousand feet, reached the summit of the ridge
dividing the valley we had left from the long and important one,
the upper part of which is known, from the tribe that inhabits it,
as Aït Mesan. It is very difficult to trace the course of the
streams that flow northward from this part of the Great Atlas,
because they are so extensively diverted into irrigation channels
that the natural bed is often dry, except after heavy rain. According
to Beaudouin’s map the streams from this and several adjoining
valleys all flow to the Oued Tensift by the east side of the city
of Marocco. This we were led to believe an error in that map. It
is probably true of the Ourika river and its affluents; but our
own observation, confirmed by the statements of the natives, led
us to think that all the streams from the Reraya district flow
north-westward after entering the plain, and unite with those from
the districts of Gurgouri and Amsmiz to form the river Oued Nyfs,
which we had passed at Misra ben Kara; the same name, variously
pronounced Oued Enfist or Oued Enfisk, being applied to several of
the separate torrents above referred to. It will be remarked that
the name Oued Enfist is merely an anagrammatic form of Oued Tensift,
the main river that drains all this portion of the Great Atlas;
and it is a question whether the natives do not apply the same
name, with the usual laxity as to the order of the consonants,
to all the affluents of the principal stream.
After descending some way on the western side of the ridge, we
came in sight of a large village perched on the summit of a hill,
on the opposite side of the stream that ran at a great depth below
us. This we soon learned to be Moulaï Ibrahim, a _zaouia_, or
sanctuary, much venerated in all this part of Marocco, governed by
a sherreef, belonging to the family of the saint whose tomb is the
chief building of the village. This semi-independent sherreef gave
permission to M. Balansa to remain in the village for some days in
1867; but just as that active traveller was prepared to attempt to
penetrate into the interior of the chain, an order from El Graoui
made it necessary for him to depart, and follow the direct way to
Marocco. As we came in sight of the _zaouia_, each of our troop,
Shelluh as well as Moor, commenced to recite prayers, and then,
after prostrating himself on the ground, with his face towards the
sanctuary, proceeded to add a stone to certain heaps that stood
beside the track. The Berebers, in general, are said to be very
lax in conforming to the precepts of the Koran, but they are as
assiduous in their show of reverence for saints and sanctuaries
as the Moors themselves, and it would appear that this is the only
practical form in which their religion exhibits itself.
On the summit of the ridge, which may be about 4,500 feet above
the sea, the rock is a grey schist, often shaly in texture, with
the strike about east and west, and clipping at a high angle
approaching the vertical. These beds may perhaps be identical
with the schists, sometimes containing mica, and sometimes more
calcareous in composition, which we afterwards found at the head of
the Amsmiz valley, and with the rock, described as micaceous schist,
seen by Washington in his ascent from Tasseremout. Our course now
lay about due south, parallel to that of the torrent which ran at a
considerable depth below us. At Moulaï Ibrahim this, according to
M. Balansa, is called Oued Ghaghaia, but we never heard any similar
designation for it. The difficulty of seizing the shades of more or
less guttural sounds from the mouths of the natives makes it not
improbable that the word Ghaghaia of M. Balansa is the same that
we agreed in writing Reraya, and that the name may mean that this
is the stream draining the district of Reraya.
On this ridge we found that curious grass, _Lygeum Spartum_,
characteristic of Sicily and Southern Spain, where it is much used
for making fine basket-work, but not seen elsewhere in Marocco. Soon
after we lit upon a single specimen of a very fine plant of the
artichoke family, evidently distinct from all those described, but
unfortunately not yet in flower. It has been provisionally named
_Cynara Hystryx_ (Ball). The next find was not less interesting—an
Oriental _Echinospermum_ (_E. barbatum_ of Lehmann) that extends
from the Punjab to Asia Minor and the Caucasus, but had not before
been seen in Africa.
About two o’clock we left behind us the rough irregular ground
over which we had been riding, and found ourselves in a broad open
valley, with a level floor, half a mile or more in width, at the
head of which rose some fine snow-seamed peaks. As we advanced
towards the main chain, our suspicion that the dividing ridge and
the higher peaks were at once more distant and more lofty than had
hitherto been supposed, was more and more confirmed; and we were
soon able to certify that M. Balansa’s expectation that any of
the higher points might be reached in a single day from Moulaï
Ibrahim was based on miscalculation of the scale of these mountains.
[Illustration:_J. B. delt._
GREAT ATLAS FROM LOWER VALLEY OF AIT MESAN]
Our short mid-day halt was in a pleasant spot, under the shade of
some very fine carob and olive trees, in view of a village with
large quadrangular windowless buildings, that seemed to show that
the mountaineers here are far better lodged than the people of
the plain. The nearer hills, and one of the higher but nearer
peaks, displayed long unbroken lines of escarpment, formed by
the exposed edges of thick beds of rock (doubtless sandstone),
of a deep red colour, indicated in the annexed plate. We here
noticed the first indication of one prominent characteristic of the
Great Atlas flora—the reappearance of many of the common field
plants of Europe, which are not seen in the lower region. Among
others, we gathered three species of _Ranunculus_ (_R. arvensis_,
_R. parviflorus_, and _R. muricatus_) beside our halting place.
We were soon again in the saddle, and every step as we advanced
disclosed some new object of interest, either in the scenery that
gradually opened before us, or in the vegetation close at hand. We
passed close to a village where the demeanour of the people was
more distinctly friendly than we had yet experienced since we
landed at Tangier. The whole population—men, women unveiled,
and children—turned out to see the cavalcade pass, and something
approaching to a smile was seen on many a countenance. It appeared
that the fame of Hooker’s skill as a _hakim_ had travelled before
us, and during the following days his patience was often tried
by the numbers who flocked to consult him. In this and the other
neighbouring valleys there are a good many Jews, who appear to
find life among the Shelluhs less hard than among the Arabs of the
plain. True to the instinct of race, they contrive to make a living
as brokers, by conducting the sale of the surplus produce of the
mountain country to Moorish traders, and the purchase of the grain,
which must be brought from the low country for the subsistence of
the people.
Some more fine plants were collected by the way. Among these were
three species of _Astragalus_, one of them new, but nearly allied
to _A. narbonensis_; and _Atractylis macrophylla_, of Desfontaines,
a noble plant of the thistle tribe, much the most ornamental of the
genus, reaching a height of three feet; but, as it flowers late,
we saw only the withered heads of the previous year.
About 6 P.M. we reached the spot which was destined to be our
head-quarters for several days. The site chosen was an olive
grove, on a shelf of level ground about one hundred feet above the
stream. The soil in the openings between the trees must have been
lying fallow for some time, and was not so uncomfortably rough as
the ploughed land on which we often had to pitch our tents. The two
nearest villages are named Hasni and Tassghirt; but the former was
taken by us as the name of the place that became to us a sort of
temporary home. By the mean of four nearly concordant observations,
compared with those at Mogador, the height of our camp was 4,205 feet
(1,281·8 m.) above the sea.
By the time we were installed in our tents it was nearly dark,
but a much longer delay occurred before the _mona_ arrived from the
neighbouring village. The interval was well employed in a negotiation
with Si Hassan, the sheik of the valley, ending by an engagement
on his part to conduct us on the following day ‘to the snow.’
With eager anticipation, we rose early on the morning of May 13,
and soon made our arrangements for the day’s excursion. Abraham,
with most of the escort, remained in charge of the camp, while three
or four of the soldiers went with us, and Si Hassan with two or
three wild-looking followers took charge of the expedition. During
the past fortnight, our Mogador attendants, and especially Ambak,
whose superior intelligence was conspicuous, had picked up enough
of English to make the constant presence of a regular interpreter
less necessary than it had been at first, though occasions were
pretty frequent when the attempts at mutual understanding between
us and the Shelluhs were evidently unsuccessful.
Immediately above our camp the valley narrows rapidly, and for some
miles the torrent flows through a mere cleft with steeply sloping
precipitous sides. To avoid this, the upward track ascends steeply
for several hundred feet, and is then carried along the slope at
a considerable height above the torrent. After suffering from the
usual delays, we commenced the ascent about eight o’clock. The
morning was bright, and the temperature delightful. The thermometer
had fallen to 50° about sunrise, but during the day it stood
some ten degrees higher in the shade in the middle part of the
valley. To a party of naturalists it was tantalising work to ride
along the rocky track, passing at every step objects of the greatest
interest, yet unable to do more than snatch a fragment, or hastily
drag up an imperfect specimen. The pace over the broken ground was
necessarily slow, and it was easy for a man on foot to keep up with
the horses; but then the temptation to linger by the way became
irresistible. What botanist could be expected to pass by new and
hitherto unseen forms of vegetable life without at least securing
two or three specimens? As one or other of us yielded to the impulse,
he was called to order by the cry of his companions, ‘We must lose
no time—we must keep together’—and so reluctantly remounting,
he was forced to keep time with our sheik guide, who led the way. At
a point about four miles above our camp the valley opened a little,
and near a village (Ouanzerout?) our track lay through a grove of
large olive trees and then descended a little to cross the stream. We
now found this an impetuous torrent, with a much greater body of
water than it had showed where we crossed it the day before many
miles lower down, and a rocky bed full of deep holes through which
it was not quite easy to take our horses and mules.
Throughout the valley we were struck by the proofs of native industry
and skill given by the numerous irrigation channels, such as one
sees in Piedmont, and in the tributaries of the Rhone valley in
Switzerland, sometimes cut along steep faces of rock, sometimes
maintained by high terraced banks. Where the ground is favourable,
walnut trees are often planted along these watercourses, and must
largely contribute to the dietary of the inhabitants. It thus appears
that the drainage of the Great Atlas is, in great part, absorbed by
irrigation, even before the streams enter the low country, while
a further portion is there taken up for the same purpose, and but
a small percentage reaches the sea in ordinary weather. This helps
to account for much that at first sight appears so strange in the
hydrography of Marocco. A vast mountain region, fully exposed to
the currents of saturated warm air from the Atlantic, sends but four
rivers to the ocean from its northern and western flanks, in a coast
line of over 400 miles from El Araisch to Cape Guer; and these, at
ordinary times, are all easily fordable. But when rain falls on the
mountains, the irrigation channels are speedily filled to the brim,
and the entire surplus reaches the rivers, which are then said to
rise ten or twelve feet in the course of as many hours. As bridges
are unknown, the Moors speak of travellers being detained for many
days before a flooded river channel, as a common occurrence.
Above the ford, the valley was again contracted to a mere gorge,
and the narrow path mounts on its eastern flank, and winds along
the extremely steep rugged slopes much after the fashion of some
unfrequented valley of the Southern Alps. Although the sun was
already high, the mountain rose so sheer upon our left that the
shadow often gave welcome protection; and the track was so narrow
in places that we were not free from anxiety for the baggage animals.
The rock was now porphyry of a prevailing red colour, which, with
occasional intrusive masses of diorite and dark green basalt, makes
up the whole mass of the central ridge of the Great Atlas in this
part of the chain. As compared with the rich and varied flora,
insect life appeared, at least at this season, to be remarkably
scarce, and the only butterfly noted was _Papilio podalyrius_.
The porphyry rocks appeared to be very hard, and far less yielding
to erosion than those of somewhat similar character in South
Tyrol. Hence the gullies and ravines cut by the water channels,
round which the track wound, were not nearly so deep as those that
add so much to the picturesqueness of the scenery, and at the same
time to the length of the way for a traveller traversing the valleys
near Botzen. After winding along the slopes for several miles,
our track descended a little to approach once more the channel of
the torrent. The valley was still narrow; but the inclination of
its bed was much less, and the ground on either bank left space
for a track, and in places even for a strip of cultivation. The
natives seem to be quick at availing themselves of every spot
possible for agriculture. Rye and barley were here seen in ear,
and the olive extends very nearly to 5,000 feet above the sea,
or considerably higher than it does on the flanks of the Lebanon.
As our track ran along the bank of a slender watercourse, it was
completely overarched by a row of elder trees in full flower,
that forced us to lay our heads upon our horses’ necks, one of
many instances of the meeting of the common plants of Northern
Europe with very different endemic forms that characterise the
upper region of the Great Atlas. Some conspicuous plants of the
lower country, and notably _Adenocarpus anagyrifolius_ and _Linaria
ventricosa_, extended thus far up the valley; and these, together
with a wild _Isatis_, scarcely different from the dyer’s woad,
gave a prevailing golden hue to the neighbouring slopes. A reach
of the valley now opened before us, backed by a stern range of dark
red bare rocky peaks. On our own (the eastern) flank, the enclosing
wall receded somewhat, and above a high and rather steep convex
acclivity stood a village whose people had brought the whole slope
into cultivation. The torrent ran through a cleft on the right
of this knoll, and our course lay directly up it, amidst fields
and meadows, gay with spring flowers, all enclosed within stiff
hedges of thorny bushes, among which our common gooseberry was
abundant. As if because the natives would spare no space that could
be turned to profit, we soon found that on the steeper portion of
the ascent the only way was up the bed of a brawling stream that
had for irrigation’s sake been diverted from the upper course of
the torrent. The track lay over big blocks of porphyry, with deep
holes between, over which the water leaped and tumbled, between
straggling branches of spiny bushes, that left many a mark on the
faces and clothing of the passing horsemen. Up to this we had little
experience of what the horses and mules of Marocco can do in the way
of getting over rough ground, and it was not without surprise that
we saw how successfully they managed to scramble up the slippery
channel over blocks worn smooth by the constant passage of men and
animals. In the midst of the scramble we all dismounted, for we here
saw for the first time the blue daisy of the Atlas, growing in the
shade under the bushes, or nestling in the hollows between the rocks.
Having reached the top of the knoll at about noon, we found a sort
of shelf of nearly level ground, covered in great part by a large
village of rude but solid stone houses. Here a halt was called,
and we were informed that a _mona_ was provided to supply the
mid-day meal for the party. Burning with impatience, as we were,
this was anything but a welcome announcement. The dark ridges
rising thousands of feet above the head of the valley were still
distant, and no snow was to be seen, save in rifts and hollows
of the rocks, high up and difficult of access; but to refuse the
proffered hospitality of the mountain chieftain would have been
deemed an affront; and to insist on taking our escort on without
food would have caused discontent, if not mutiny. We made a virtue
of necessity, and, while awaiting the repast, carried on a semblance
of broken conversation, in which the ready wit of Ambak, our ever
active attendant, supplied, it is likely, the chief materials. The
name of the village, even more difficult to seize than usual,
was noted by Hooker as Adjersiman. It stands, by our observations,
at 5,535 feet (1,687 m.) above the sea level.
An hour—a whole precious hour—was consumed before the meal was
over, and we were again on our way. Above the village the bed of the
valley rises very steeply, the central part being filled with a vast
mound of huge boulders, which on further examination proved to be the
undoubted remains of the terminal moraine of the glacier which once
filled the head of the valley. The principal mass of course marked
the limit of the glacier during a prolonged period; but there were
traces of two parallel moraines of smaller size, of which the outer
marked the limit of its maximum extension. The blocks of porphyry
and other metamorphic rocks were mostly of great dimensions.
The track was carried in zigzags up the face of the rocky slope,
keeping towards the top close to the edge of the moraine; and on
reaching the summit of the barrier disclosed to us for the first
time a full view of the head of our valley. A few yards below us was
a small miserable-looking village called Arround, the highest in
this district. This stands at the meeting of two short and rather
broad glens, each enclosed by the rugged masses of the central
range of the Great Atlas. The shorter of the two, which opened on
our left in a SE. or ESE. direction, does not apparently reach the
main watershed, and a pass from its head would in all probability
lead to one of the tributary branches of the Ourika valley. The
other glen that opened right in front of us, somewhat W. of due S.,
was enclosed by a still loftier and more stern barrier, the rocks,
since the sky had become overclouded, having passed from a dull red
to a dark brown complexion. The ground for some distance behind
the village was flat and swampy, showing that a small moraine
lake had been filled up with gravel and silt. On the level space
most of the soil was under tillage, and wheat as well as rye and
barley are grown, and even maize, as we learned, is raised in this
inclement position. On the low dykes that enclose the little fields
we noticed _Iris germanica_, evidently planted, but whether for the
production of orris-root, or for the sake of ornament, we failed
to ascertain. The only large tree was the walnut, which had been
planted along the skirts of the cultivated ground.
Now that we were able to pry into the inner recesses of the chain,
we perceived that snow lay in abundance at a much lower level than we
had hitherto supposed, but nowhere in masses of any great extent. All
the higher ridges around us were extremely steep, though not cut
into actual precipices; but on these snow could nowhere accumulate,
save in clefts. Towards their base, however, at the foot of each
narrow ravine that furrowed their faces, at many spots not much
more than a thousand feet above our level, were large patches that
seemed likely to maintain their position for some time. Though not
without experience of mountain lands, we could none of us call to
mind any spot much resembling the scene before us. Nowhere in the
Alps is there anything of at all a similar character. Excluding the
village, and the small fields, and the walnut trees, which, after
all, filled but a small space in the view, there was something to
remind one of the wilder valleys of the Northern Carpathians, but
on a much greater scale. In the Tatra, as here, the rocks rise in
broken masses, very steep but not quite precipitous, and the snow is
seen only in clefts of the higher ridges, not because the climate
forbids it to accumulate, but because the surface affords so few
spots on which it can rest. But the rocky masses of the Tatra tend
to form isolated peaks, usually of rugged and very steep conical
shape; while in this part of the Great Atlas the depressions that
separate the summits are of little depth as compared to the great
height of the range. Seen from below, as from the spot where we
now stood, many points assume the aspect of sharp peaks; but it is
easy to ascertain, by varying the point of view, that these are mere
projecting bastions from the wall of the main chain, rising little,
or not at all, above the level of the adjoining ridges.
The day was already far gone—nearly two o’clock in the
afternoon—when, leaving our horses at the village, we started on
foot, with our sheik as guide, descending slightly to the level of
the stream, here easily crossed, and then mounting the slope on the
west side of the main branch of the valley in the direction of one of
the nearest of the patches of snow already seen by us. No guide was
needed, for the lower slopes on either side were easily accessible in
all directions; but the sheik evidently wished to fulfil in person
the promise of ‘leading us to the snow.’ Difficulty there
was none, except that of moving onward over ground where every
step brought to view some fresh object of interest. It was clear
that we had at last reached the threshold of the _terra incognita_
that we had so long dreamed of—the subalpine region of the Great
Atlas. There could be no doubt that in the short space between the
lower village and Arround—that is, between the lower end of the
ancient moraine and the ground formerly covered by glacier—the
flora had undergone a complete change. Nearly all the peculiar
species which we had hitherto looked on as characteristic of the
Great Atlas had disappeared, and their place was occupied in part by
others peculiar to this region, and not known elsewhere; but more
largely by species either identical or nearly allied to well-known
mountain plants of the Mediterranean region, along with some of the
common plants of middle Europe, including several familiar British
field plants.
It will be more convenient to reserve details for the remarks
on the vegetation of this and the Amsmiz valley, which will be
found in the Appendix; but it must be owned that the general
impression now made, and increased on further acquaintance, was
not free from disappointment. As compared with any of the higher
mountain masses surrounding the Mediterranean, already known to us,
this is singularly unproductive of ornamental species attractive
to the eye. The Sierra Nevada of Granada, the Lebanon chain, and
the mountain ranges of Asia Minor, all exhibit at this season a
multitude of bright-hued plants to delight the traveller, even
though they may not rival the splendour of the higher zone of the
Alps and Pyrenees to one who sees this a month or two later. Another
remarkable feature was the absence of trees, and especially of true
conifers. The dwarf evergreen oak that clothes the middle zone of the
Atlas was no longer seen, and there was no pine, or spruce, or cedar
to take its place. The solitary juniper that we afterwards saw was
scarcely noticed at this, our first, visit. It is sometimes said that
naturalists take no delight in the beauty of the objects of their
study; but this is surely untrue of the great majority. Probably the
notion has arisen from the fact that, in addition to the sources of
pleasure which he shares with the rest of the world, the naturalist
finds food for the sense of beauty as well as scientific interest,
unsuspected by his critics, in exploring the internal structure of
organised beings. Be this as it may, it is certain that the generally
sombre aspect of the vegetation, harmonising as it did with that of
the scenery, had a somewhat depressing effect on all the members of
our party, while at the same time it only increased our desire to
reach the upper part of the rugged barrier of rock that rose some
5,000 feet around the head of the valley where we stood.
Meanwhile, the afternoon was wearing away; we did not clearly
know how we were to return to our camp after dark, but remembered
distinctly one awkward place—the fording of the torrent—where
some daylight seemed indispensable. We hurried back, our portfolios
and tin boxes fully charged with spoil, and found the horses
and mules awaiting us on the flat ground below Arround. A man
can usually travel over rough mountain tracks as fast as a mule;
but if the man be a botanist, and the track lies among new and
rare plants, it is quite certain that he will not do so; and when
haste is a matter of real importance, it is necessary to submit to
the restraint of riding. Hurried as we were, it was necessary to
dismount and make a short halt on our return to Arround. The laws
of Bereber hospitality required that the villagers should present
a _mona_, and that we should at least make a show of partaking of
it. There was a large dish of barley porridge, with a lake of oil
in a crater-like hollow in the centre, and another of buttermilk,
in which were some of last year’s walnuts, as well as other
unexpected delicacies. This entertainment was briefly despatched
by our followers, and we proceeded down the steep track beside the
moraine, and again reached Adjersiman. Here, to our vexation, another
halt was called, and another slight refection was presented. Our
impatience was so far successful, that the delay was limited to a
very few minutes. We should, perhaps, have displayed more interest
in these specimens of native cookery, if we had been acquainted with
the curious passages in which Leo Africanus[1] minutely describes
the dietary of the Atlas mountaineers, and the mode of preparing
the identical dishes that were here presented to us.
Once more we were in the saddle, and the whole party felt that no
more delay was permitted. To ride down the steep, slippery bed of
the watercourse below the village seemed even a more trying affair
than the ascent; but our companions seemed to take it as a matter
of course, and our sturdy beasts accomplished the task bravely,
though not without hard struggling, that would have strained the
muscles of animals less strong and hardy. As always happens when
the ground is looked at in the reverse direction, we espied, on
retracing our track, several plants not before noticed, one or two
of them certainly new. No botanist can resist such a temptation,
even though he were flying for his life; and two or three times we
dismounted to snatch a specimen or two, but were soon recalled to
the necessity for pushing on. For the first time since we landed
in Marocco, the evening sky was overcast with heavy dark clouds,
and the last of twilight was fading fast when we reached the ford
over the torrent. The banks are here overarched by poplars and
other tall trees, and in the dim light the rapid stream seemed
fiercer, and its roar more menacing, than when we crossed it in
the morning. The passage was achieved; but not without a good deal
of excitement among our followers, when one of the soldier’s
horses slipped into a hole, and only after violent plunging and
loud shouting of the natives, scrambled to the farther bank.
Without more trouble we ascended the slope on the western side
of the valley, and reached the olive grove, to which we had given
little attention when we passed through it in the morning. This now
unexpectedly presented the most difficult, and even dangerous, stage
of our excursion. Such faint glimmering of light as remained up to
this disappeared under the trees, and gave place to absolute pitch
darkness. The rough spreading boughs, all beset with the ragged,
leafless, half-dead branchlets characteristic of old olive trees,
stretched out on every side, at a height of four or five feet from
the ground. There was no regular beaten track through the grove,
but by day it was easy for man and horse to thread a way among the
trees. The case was now very different. Our keen-sighted Shelluh
followers were as much at a loss as we were. One or two men on
foot went first, and we then followed, the train being brought up
by the soldiers of our escort. For a while, by moving slowly and
cautiously, nothing serious happened. The beasts seemed to understand
the difficulty of the case, and as one or another of us rode against
a branch, with head bent down to lessen the risk of mischief, they
stopped at once, and even backed a step or two. Before long the
cavalcade was separated by long gaps. A loud cry of pain, followed
by the vociferations of the natives, brought the foremost to a full
stop, and after a while we were once more near together. It was not
altogether reassuring to be told by Ambak, when we asked the cause
of the row, that one of the soldier’s eyes had been torn out. On
this Ball determined to proceed on foot; but Hooker and Maw, after a
few steps over the very broken ground, thought it better to remount,
and rely on the sagacity of their four-footed companions.
In our awkward position the time seemed long; but at last we got
through the olive grove, and found when we emerged from it that
the night was even darker than before. It is well known to those
who have made night excursions in mountain countries, that anything
approaching absolute darkness, in places not overshadowed by trees
or rocks, is very unusual. It may be impossible to distinguish one
object from another; but the outline of opaque bodies against the
sky is almost always traceable, and it rarely happens that a path
is not in some degree distinguishable by its lighter hue from the
surrounding rocks or vegetation. On this night, however, nothing
whatever could be seen; and as we knew that the narrow track was
carried for the next three or four miles along a very steep slope,
precipitous in places, we felt that our difficulties were not yet
over. The horses and mules, however, showed themselves deserving of
the confidence placed in them. Ball, who led the way on foot, feeling
his way with an alpenstock, had a narrow escape, as, misplacing his
foot, he fell over the edge, but was luckily stopped by a dense mass
of thorny bushes, from which he was rescued with a little trouble. We
were heartily glad when, on reaching the spot where the track turns
downward towards the river, we at last saw the lights of our camp
glimmering through the trees. The roof of dark clouds overhead had by
this time grown rather less dense; some faint light helped us down
the steep slope, and a little before eleven o’clock we reached
the welcome shelter of our tents. The case of the wounded soldier
was first attended to. It was much less serious than we supposed;
the eye was not much injured, but there was an ugly flesh wound on
the face below it, where a jagged stem had torn through the upper
part of the cheek. Wounds heal with remarkable readiness among the
natives of this country, and after a few days nothing remained but
a scar on the man’s face. A sheep, several fowls, eggs, and three
large dishes of cooked food were soon forthcoming as the evening
_mona_, and a rather late supper closed the proceedings of the day.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: See Ramusio, _Delle Navigationi et Viaggi_. Venetia:
1563. Vol. i. 12.]
CHAPTER IX.
The Shelluh sheik bribed — Arrangements for stopping at Arround
— Medical practice among the Shelluhs — Arabic correspondence
— Unexpected difficulty — Strange fancies of the natives —
Threatening weather — Our house at Arround — Gloomy morning —
Saint’s tomb — Escape from our guides — Strange encounter —
Snow-storm — Tagherot pass — Descent to Arround — Continuance
of bad weather — Sacrifice of a sheep — Shelluh mountaineers
— Fauna of the Great Atlas — Return to Hasni — Deplorable
condition of our camp.
We had at last succeeded in breaking the charm that seemed to have
hitherto kept us from the inner recesses of the Great Atlas; but we
had done little more, and what we had as yet seen and handled of the
vegetation of the higher region merely served to whet the appetite,
and increase our natural voracity. Our talk on that night of our
return to Hasni, and our first thoughts on the following morning,
turned on the possibility of making the wretched village of Arround
our base of operations for two or three days, as it was clear that
only by starting from that point would it be possible to make a
fruitful ascent of the higher ridges. During the day’s excursion,
Hooker had ascertained a point of great practical importance. While
mounting the slopes on the west flank of the valley, he noticed
a path leading upwards towards a narrow ravine at its head, and
learned in answer to his inquiries that this led to Sous—the
great valley on the farther side of the main range. It was clear
then, that, with Arround as a starting point, we should have the
advantage of a beaten track as far as the crest of the ridge; and,
even if this should not be very high, we might, from that point,
ascend one of the adjoining summits.
The greater part of the following day, May 14, was devoted to
putting our large collections into order; but meanwhile negotiations
for carrying out our plan of sleeping at Arround were the most
pressing business, and at length, after endless palavers, and
discussing countless difficulties, were brought to the desired
conclusion. Almost alone among the men in authority, whom we met
in Marocco, the sheik of this valley seemed to have no special
aversion to us as strangers and Christians. For very sufficient
reasons he was longing for the moment that should see us and our
escort depart from his district; but meanwhile he seemed anxious to
keep on friendly terms, and do what he could to meet our wishes. We
had already made him several presents; but here, as elsewhere in
the country, we found that most of the articles we had provided for
that purpose were little appreciated. Opera glasses, musical boxes,
and even watches are of small account, unless with the comparatively
civilised men who have lived in the coast towns or the great cities:
cutlery is much more sought after, and some large sheath knives,
of which we had a fair supply, were always highly acceptable; but
fire-arms, not necessarily of modern make, are far more welcome than
any other gifts. On this occasion we resorted to a strange engine
of seduction. Before leaving London, Ball had happened to pick up,
in an old curiosity shop, an antiquated weapon, of the size of a
large horse pistol, with four barrels intended to be loaded and
discharged all together. This, which we had called the ‘young
mitrailleuse,’ had been the subject of many jokes during the
journey, but was now with due solemnity presented to the sheik. The
effect of our munificence was immediate and satisfactory, and the
sheik was gained over to our cause. Fortunately, the efficiency
of the ‘young mitrailleuse’ was not tested while we were in
the country. It may probably have been since employed with deadly
effect; but it is doubtful whether the victim would be the person
against whom the four barrels may have been directed.
The sheik undertook that one of the houses in Arround should be
cleared out for our reception; but, to provide for all contingencies,
we arranged to take with us the two smaller and lighter tents,
along with the usual supply of botanical paper and tin boxes.
Many natives of both sexes came to our camp during the day, in
quest of medical treatment, as they had done during our absence
the day before; and we were much amused to find that Abraham had
coolly undertaken medical practice on his own account. He had
provided himself with a large bottle of black stuff, containing
heaven knows what nauseous ingredients, and this was doled out
impartially to all applicants. It appeared to be a strong purgative,
and may have answered sufficiently well in the rather frequent
cases of indigestion arising from overeating. Of more serious
complaints, ophthalmia was one of the most prevalent here, as
elsewhere throughout South Marocco. Scrofulous sores and strictures
were also common. Women desirous of offspring were brought to the
camp by their husbands, and some cases of natural deformity also
presented themselves. All seemed to have that great condition for
remarkable cures that depends on a firm faith in the efficacy of the
remedy. We had deliberately refused to follow the example of many
African travellers, by including aphrodisiacs among the drugs carried
with us, and all applications for such were met by a stern refusal.
We found time in the afternoon to examine the vegetation of the
valley in the neighbourhood of our camp, of which we had hitherto
obtained merely a passing view. The general aspect was very much
what may be found at a level lower by 1,200 or 1,400 feet in
Southern Spain or Calabria. In the valley bottom the prevailing
trees were poplars—the common black poplar, and a small-leaved
variety of the white poplar—and _Salix purpurea_, with walnut,
olive, and carob, the latter three being extensively cultivated. The
small-leaved ash, _Fraxinus oxyphylla_, was also rather common,
but does not grow to so large a size as in North Marocco. On drier
ground, on the stony slopes, _Callitris_ occurs here and there;
and two junipers—_J. oxycedrus_ and _J. phœnicea_,—are rather
frequent, and when allowed to reach maturity attain to the stature
of small trees. The evergreen oak is the predominant tree on the
flanks of the mountains, and exhibits several varieties, but rarely
attains its natural size. Shrubs and low bushes, as usual in the
Mediterranean region, are very numerous and varied, most of them,
such as the alaternus, phillyrea, lentisk, oleander, and colutea,
being widely diffused species of Southern Europe; and a beautiful
honeysuckle (_Lonicera etrusca_), with large, sweet-scented flowers,
was a conspicuous ornament. Along with these, several common forms
of Central and North-western Europe, such as the common bramble,
the ivy, the dog-rose and elder, here find their southern limit. It
was not possible, however, for a botanist to look about him at any
spot in the valley without being struck by abundant evidence that
he had entered a region very distinct from any part of Southern
Europe or Algeria. This impression was strengthened throughout
our ride of the previous day, as we ascended from our camp to the
foot of the ancient moraine, and everywhere saw conspicuous plants
peculiar to the middle and lower zones of the Great Atlas. Our
first impression was that the proportion of such endemic species
was larger in this part of the valley than in the higher zone; but
this was due to the fact, that so many more of those inhabiting the
lower zone strike the eye by their greater size and by the brilliancy
of their flowers. When we came to examine our collections with the
requisite care, we found that about one-seventh of all the species
found in the middle region of this valley is made up of peculiar
endemic species, while the proportion of the same element in the
higher region rises to one-fifth.[1]
We were especially struck by the complete absence of new
generic types. There were, indeed, but two species seen in
this valley belonging to North African genera—_Callitris_
and _Lotononis_—that do not extend to Europe. All the rest are
referable to European types, of which the large majority extend
to the central and north-western parts of our continent. No
representatives of tropical and sub-tropical types, such as are
seen in Arabia, Persia, and Northern India, are here to be found.
During our absence on the 13th, a courier had arrived from Mogador,
with letters from M. Carstensen. The man had first gone to Marocco,
and thence, for the most part following our track, had found us in
our Atlas head-quarters, and was well pleased with the trifling pay
of a few shillings for the journey. To-day another courier made his
appearance, bearing answers to the letter despatched to El Graoui,
on the morning of the 12th, so that we had no reason to complain
of remissness on his part. Probably for the purpose of shifting
an unpopular measure from his own shoulders, the wary old Governor
forwarded a letter from the Viceroy, expressly sanctioning our stay
in the Aït Mesan valley, for as long a time as should be required
for the objects of our journey. Along with this, El Graoui wrote
to Hooker, expressing a hope that our stay would not be prolonged
more than was really necessary, inasmuch as the villages of the
valley were very poor. Further provision was made to meet Maw’s
desire to return to England, and an order sent that two soldiers
should be detached from our escort to accompany him to Mogador.
It was curious to observe that whenever literary knowledge was
in request, whether for reading and fully understanding letters
addressed to us in Arabic, or for the composition of letters to be
addressed by us in the same language, the member of the expedition
always most relied upon was Hamed, Ball’s personal attendant,
one of the poor fellows engaged at Mogador to act in a menial
capacity and accompany the expedition on foot. It is true of the
western dialect spoken in Marocco, as well as of the purer Arabic of
the east, that a familiar knowledge of the spoken tongue does not
imply a full acquaintance with the written language, and Abraham
was evidently sometimes at fault. Education, in a literary sense,
is not among Moslems a privilege of rank or wealth, and is quite
as often found among the poorest as with those above them. Our two
Kaïds were both ostentatiously illiterate, and the soldiers knew
no more than their officers; and poor Hamed, alone of all our suite,
seemed to be worth taking into council on these occasions.
Once more the insatiable rapacity of our escort gave us trouble,
and proved to us that the objection to our making a long stay among
these poor mountaineers was not an unreasonable one. We ascertained
that the demands of these shameless fellows on their own behalf,
apart from the rest of the expedition, rose to forty fowls a day,
with bread, tea, and sugar in proportion, while they were constantly
grumbling at the insufficiency of this allowance for ten persons,
and demanding money from the natives in lieu of the other luxuries to
which they thought themselves entitled. We sincerely regretted our
want of power to put a stop to these abuses; but it was impossible
to sacrifice the main object of our journey, and we merely resolved
to acquaint El Graoui with the facts after our return to Mogador.
We rose early on the morning of the 15th, and lost no time in
preparing for our departure. Just when all seemed ready for a start
a new and serious difficulty arose. Hooker and Maw had both provided
for the journey several large tin cases painted green, and intended
for the transport of living plants from Marocco to England; and, as
a matter of course, some of these were amongst the luggage packed up
for the expedition to Arround. When the sheik arrived about 7 A.M. he
at once declared that he had undertaken to conduct us to Arround,
but that to carry the luggage he saw prepared was utterly out of
the question. A long and vehement controversy ensued; at first it
was impossible to understand the real nature of the difficulty,
and when this was gradually made clear, the objections seemed to
us so incoherent and inconsistent that we suspected them to be mere
pretexts to cover some unavowed obstacle in the sheik’s mind.
It appeared that the tin cases were the real stumbling
blocks. ‘When the people of Arround see those cases,’ said Si
Hassan, ‘nothing will persuade them that they are not filled with
treasure—they will attack us in the night, and will kill you and
me too, in order to get possession of them.’ ‘They will believe
the boxes to be full of gunpowder’—so ran another version of
the difficulty—‘and think you have come to take possession of
their valley, and will fight to resist your remaining there.’
We suspected at the time that the unavowed cause of offence lay in
the boxes being painted green—the colour of the Prophet and his
descendants—but from the slight attention paid by the mountaineers
to the observances of Moslem law, even in more important matters,
we afterwards rejected this explanation, and were inclined to
believe that the sheik knew his own people, and truly represented
the strange fancies to which they are subject.
The tin boxes were reluctantly sacrificed, and with them the
possibility of making any large collection of living plants in
the upper region of the Great Atlas. The luggage was repacked,
and after several hours’ delay we started about 10.30 A.M. by the
same track which had been the scene of our recent night adventure.
The weather during the last two days had been gradually changing from
the condition of ‘set fair’ to which we had been used since our
arrival in Marocco. The barometer had fallen progressively fully
five millimetres, and the clouds had changed from their ordinary
condition of light, separate fleecy masses gathered round the higher
ridges during the day to a dense canopy stretching continuously
over the visible portion of the sky. If choice had been left to
us we should not have selected this morning for our excursion;
but, after overcoming so many difficulties, there was no thought
of letting weather stand in our way, and we could only resolve to
make the best of it whatever it might be. On this occasion we had
rather more time to spare than two days before, and we added a good
deal to our previous collections in the valley, though less than we
could have done if the precious morning hours had not been wasted
in controversy.
We had many an occasion for admiring the sureness of foot of
the mules and horses in this country; but we also noticed that,
like their fellows elsewhere, they have some peculiarities of
disposition that a traveller should take note of. Maw’s mule,
hitherto remarkably steady, had a trick of keeping to the outer
verge of the path in steep places, and when his head was turned
inward his hind foot would go over the edge. After recovering himself
once or twice, he at last slipped completely. Maw saved himself in
good time, while the animal rolled down the steep slope towards the
torrent. In many places this is so precipitous that the beast must
have been killed; as it was, he was stopped by some thorny bushes,
and was with some trouble got back to the track, a sadder and a
wiser mule for the rest of that day at least. It is well known that
several fatal accidents in the Alps have occurred in places of the
same character from interference with a mule, who should be left
to take his own course. The now almost familiar road to Arround,
with the ascent of the watercourse, seeming more objectionable each
time that we passed it, was accomplished without further incident,
and no other delays than those involved in plant-collecting. In six
hours from Hasni we reached the village, whose inhabitants had all
turned out of doors to gaze on the Christian strangers who, from
some inscrutable motive, had come a second time to their secluded
valley, and now seemed resolved to fix their abode there.
A house, the best in the village we were told, had been prepared
for us by the simple process of turning out its inmates, and to
this we were at once conducted. On the ground floor were two quite
dark and low cellars or
[Illustration: HOUSES AT ARROUND.]
dens, seemingly filthy, but which we were not inclined to
explore. Ascending by some rickety steps, we reached the upper floor,
the larger part of which was occupied by a rude open verandah,
at each end of which was a little closet about seven feet square,
one of which was occupied by Maw, while the other was used as
a kitchen, the open verandah serving as our sitting-room, and as
night quarters for Hooker and Ball. As usual in the Shelluh houses,
the doors were only about four feet, and the rooms and verandah
not over five feet high, making it inconvenient for us to move
about. In most of the houses there are underground cellars to which
the inhabitants retire in winter, as is the custom in Armenia and
in some of the higher valleys of the French Alps.
We scarcely had been settled in the house when several applicants
for medical advice presented themselves; but these were disposed of
soon enough to leave some remaining daylight, which was devoted to
a stroll up the left, or SE. branch of the upper valley. The flat
ground was parcelled into small fields divided by stone dykes, and
intersected by slender irrigation channels. The fields seemed to
be carefully tilled, rye, barley, and beans being the only crop now
above ground. Maize is sown in the latter part of May and ripens in
the course of six weeks. We saw with surprise a few vines in this
inclement spot, and also Madder (_Rubia tinctorum_) seemingly wild,
but doubtless originally introduced for native use.
The mountains, as far as we could see them, looked forbidding, and
the scene this evening was even more sombre than it had been two days
before. Leaden clouds roofed the valley across, and completely hid
the higher ridges; slight gusts of chilling wind blew at intervals,
and all the tokens of impending bad weather warned us not to indulge
in cheerful anticipations for the morrow. On this occasion we had
limited our escort to two soldiers, whose presence showed that
we were under the shadow of imperial protection, but who would
doubtless have been utterly useless if the natives had harboured
hostile designs. Of such, however, there was not the slightest
indication. The demeanour of the people was respectful and friendly,
rather than the reverse. Our every movement was watched, but from
a distance, and there was none of the intrusive curiosity so often
complained of by travellers among semi-barbarous people. The men all
habitually wear the hooded cloak, of dark-coloured goat’s hair,
somewhat looser than the Moorish _jellabia_, which appears to be
peculiar to the tribes of the Great Atlas. Whether the slight
variations in the triangular patch of coloured stuff with rude
embroidery that is inserted at the back, serves to distinguish
the men of one tribe from another, we failed to ascertain. The
women, who make but a faint show of concealing half the face when
approaching strangers, seemed to be rather better favoured than
those we had seen in the lower valley. They partly shave the head,
and twine the remaining hair into two broad plaits, bringing these
forward crosswise over the forehead.
With a view to possible difficulties arising with the sheik, we had
taken Abraham with us, leaving the camp at Hasni for twenty-four
hours in charge of Crump, Hooker’s English attendant; but it was
arranged that the former was to return on the following morning,
much to his own satisfaction, as the cold and discomfort of this
Alpine village seemed to make both him and the Marocco soldiers
perfectly miserable.
Our evening meal was enlivened by one of some precious bottles of
generous wine that Maw had added to our stores, reserved for special
occasions, such as the present. After this we should gladly have
gone to sleep, if stern duty had not forbidden any such luxury. The
minimum of evening work for the travelling botanist is to lay out
between dry paper the contents of his boxes and portfolios filled
during the day. On this occasion the operation was more troublesome
than usual, as we struggled to screen our single flickering candle
from the night wind in the least exposed corner of the verandah,
and midnight had come and gone before we stretched our mattresses on
the earthen floor, first duly dusted with insect powder, and sought
rest. In our exposed position the cold was very sensible through
the night, though the thermometer did not fall below 45° Fahr.
The morning sky was so gloomy that no one awoke so early as we
had intended; and at sunrise on May 16, when we loudly called for
breakfast, the light was still so imperfect that it seemed as though
the day had but just dawned. There was less than the usual delay;
but six o’clock had passed, and we were not yet ready to start. To
our great satisfaction we found that the sheik did not propose to
accompany us to-day, but had appointed two men of the village to
act as guides. With these, and our usual personal attendants, whom
we knew by experience to be active pedestrians, we started about
6.30 A.M. to ascend the main southern branch of the valley. For
rather more than a mile the way over the filled-up bed of the old
moraine lake is quite flat, and for a considerable distance beyond
this the ascent along the bottom of the valley is very gentle;
but we were led by the aspect of the ground to ascend the rather
steep western slope at a part much farther from the village than
we had traversed three days before.
Our inducement to leave the track was the wish to examine certain
solitary trees that we noticed scattered at rather wide intervals on
the slopes, nowhere descending below the level of 8,000 feet above
the sea, but extending upwards, where they find a resting place,
through a vertical zone of about 1,500 feet. The first we were
able to reach, which was similar in aspect to the rest, showed a
trunk more than two feet in diameter, and about thirty feet high,
but broken off and shattered at the top; the branches, with their
very dark foliage, diminishing in length upwards, give the whole a
conical form. We took it at the time for _Juniperus phœnicea_, which
is rather a common tree in the lower valleys. Subsequent examination
showed it, however, to differ from that species, and to be identical
with _Juniperus thurifera_, a tree hitherto known only in Central
Spain, Portugal, and Algeria, and apparently nowhere common. From
the number of dead stems seen, it seems to have once girdled this
mass of the Atlas with a belt of forest, which has been gradually
thinned, and is doomed to ultimate destruction. The existing trees
are probably of high antiquity, and their destruction is mainly due
to the practice of setting fire to the brushwood to gain pasture
for animals; while the young plants, of which not a single one was
seen, would be cut off while yet seedlings by the tooth of the goat,
the great enemy of tree vegetation—an animal whose disastrous
influence, acting indirectly on the climate of wide regions,
entitles it to rank as one of the worst enemies of the human race.
Although the ground was to a great extent occupied by the two
dwarf bushes seen on our first visit, _Alyssum spinosum_ and
_Bupleurum spinosum_, there was no lack of new forms of plants to
maintain our enthusiasm; and, in spite of the desire to push on,
many a halt occurred as one or other lighted on an object of fresh
interest. As a natural consequence of our having chosen to make
our way along the side of the glen, instead of following its bed,
we had to cross several projecting spurs, the last rather steep,
before descending to a spot where, at the extreme head of the valley,
our guides pointed out a Saint’s tomb, consisting of a rude stone
hut with a space five or six feet square in the centre. When we
reached this, the guides made it clear to us that we had arrived
at the end of our excursion. The hut stands at the junction of
the streams issuing from two rocky ravines. That on the west side
was apparently very steep and pathless; the other, mounting about
due S., was nearly equally steep, but we could see that a beaten
track ascended along the opposite bank of the slender torrent that
tumbled over the rocks at its entrance. The native guides confirmed
the statement before made to Hooker, that by that tract lay the way
to Sous; but, by expressive pantomime, they explained that danger
lay in that direction, and that the people of the other side were
addicted to the practice of shooting at strangers. We were careful to
avoid controversy, and set ourselves to collect plants in a patch
of boggy ground near the hut, where familiar northern species,
such as _Stellaria uliginosa_, _Sagina Linnæi_, _Montia fontana_
and _Veronica Beccabunga_, grew in company with a new species of
_Nasturtium_, and others not before seen by us.
So intent had we been on the surrounding vegetation, that we had
scarcely cast a glance at the sky overhead. This had continually
assumed a more and more gloomy aspect; and at length, after due
notice and preparation, the long-expected rain began, not in a
heavy downpour such as often occurs in southern countries, but in
that fine steady drizzle which is known to those whom the fates
have led to the northern parts of our island as a Scotch mist,
hateful to the lover of the picturesque and still more hateful
to the botanist. On this occasion, however, it seemed to us no
unmixed evil, as it furthered the execution of a stratagem that
was already in our minds. Our followers were scantily clad, and
felt more than we did the chilly temperature of the day, and of
course the rain increased their discomfort. They were, therefore,
in the right frame of mind to accept at once the suggestion that
they should light a fire within the hut, therein following the
example of preceding wayfarers. After muttering a few prayers,
they proceeded to gather some damp sticks, and presently were busy
in the attempt to make a fire out of them. Having continued for a
few minutes to loiter about, still gathering plants near the hut,
until the men appeared to be fully engrossed in their occupation,
we started together to ascend the track leading to the summit ridge
of the Atlas.
We had reached the Saint’s tomb about 9 A.M., and found its height
above the sea-level to be 7,852 feet (2,393·2 m.). Little more than
half-an-hour had since elapsed, so that, if no unexpected difficulty
occurred, there was ample time to reach the summit of the pass which,
as we thought, could scarcely be 3,000 feet above us. A number of
interesting plants soon rewarded our adventure, and delayed us for
a while on the rocky banks of the torrent near the bottom of the
ravine, but out of view of the Saint’s tomb. On joining the track,
we found it a well-made mountain path, constructed with some skill,
advantage being taken of the nature of the ground to make zigzags,
evidently intended for the passage of beasts of burthen.
We had ascended several hundred feet, and were looking about
for plants among rocks to the left of the path, when some faint
sound made us look up, and we descried, amid the rain and mist,
a party of men and laden mules descending towards us down the
steep ravine. There was some obvious awkwardness in the impending
encounter of three Englishmen, utterly ignorant of the native tongue,
with a set of wild mountaineers of the Atlas, in a spot where no
stranger had ever before been seen. In such cases, the less time
that is left for deliberation the better. Suspicion or greed may
prompt an attack where time is left for consultation; but if people
are suddenly confronted by peaceable strangers, they will rarely,
unless robbers by profession, think of molesting them. The shape of
the ground happened to favour this obvious bit of policy, and some
projecting rocks concealed the approaching train until we suddenly
confronted them at a turn of the path, and passed within a few yards,
with something approaching to a grave salute. The mules appeared to
be laden with goat-skins, along with other articles that we could
not distinguish. Whether these were people from the northern side of
the chain returning from a trading expedition in the Sous country,
or men of Sous carrying goods to the capital, we never certainly
ascertained; but, from noticing pieces of orange-peel on the track,
we inferred that they must have descended rather low in the Sous
valley; while it is certain that people going from the lower part
of that valley to the city of Marocco would not have followed this
circuitous and difficult track, unless urged by special reasons.
A little farther on we found, on ledges of rock near the
track, several of the most interesting plants seen during the
day. Thenceforward all botanising became difficult. The rain turned
to sleet, and before long to snow; and, though the roughness of
the ground still enabled us to discern the more conspicuous plants,
it was almost impossible to secure satisfactory specimens.
Soon after the snow had set in, we heard, from below, yells and
screams, and immediately guessed that the caravan from Sous had
brought news to our guides at the Saint’s tomb of our escapade
towards the summit of the pass. The guess was correct; and though
we pushed on rather faster than before, the foremost guide soon
overtook us, and addressing himself especially to Maw, who led the
way during the ascent, with vehement gestures and emphatic phrases,
that seemed to combine threats and injunctions with supplication,
urged an immediate return. Maw judiciously had recourse to an
argument of universal efficacy, and, presenting the man with a
piece of silver, pointed upwards and strove to explain, by signs,
that we meant to go to the top and then return. Shortly afterwards,
the second man appeared, panting from the pace at which he had run
up the steep ascent. He addressed himself to Ball, who came next
to Maw, but was answered by the same reasoning that had prevailed
with his companion.
The upper part of the ravine was wider than it had been below, and
the slope rather less steep. Here, as throughout the upper valley,
porphyries and porphyritic tuffs of a prevailing red colour,
form the mass of the ridge; but we observed at several points
intrusive masses of diorite, sometimes much resembling granite in
appearance. Higher up, near the summit of the ridge, Maw noticed
white crystalline limestone, of no great extent, which appeared to
be intercalated with the porphyrites.
To collect plants was now scarcely possible, for the snow covered
the surface, and it was necessary to kick it away from the tufts of
grass or dwarf bushes, in order to ascertain what might be growing
beneath. The wind, which had hitherto spared us, now joined itself to
the opposing forces, driving the snow with blinding force, and making
the cold, already severe, well nigh intolerable. The poor fellows
who had for some way followed us without further remonstrance,
now renewed with redoubled energy their appeal that we should
return. Kissing the hem of our coats at one moment, brandishing
their arms with passionate gestures, or actually pulling us back at
another, they really impressed us more by their pitiable appearance,
exposed with the slightest covering to the bitter blast, their feet
and bare legs cut and bleeding from the rocks and thorny bushes of
the way.
It was now apparent that the dread with which these men were
evidently impressed did not arise solely from apprehension of an
encounter with human enemies. Firmly believing that the heights
of the Atlas are inhabited by _djinns_, or demons, it was obvious
to our companions that the storm was caused by their anger at the
intrusion of strangers into their sanctuary. We had not before
noticed that one of the Shelluhs carried with him a live cock under
his arm. In a state of the utmost excitement, he now proceeded to
cut the animal’s throat, in order thus to appease the wrath of
our supernatural foes, then renewing the appeal to us to forego
further provocation.
In emphatic English, and such pantomime as we could command, we
explained that we were determined to reach the top, but would then
immediately return, and proceeded to face the last portion of the
ascent. This lay through a broad _couloir_, some twenty to thirty
feet wide, between steep walls of rock where, on narrow ledges giving
scarcely any hold for snow, the last plants were collected. The
storm, now almost a hurricane, raged with increasing violence;
it was scarcely possible to face it, and our hands and feet gave
scarcely any token of sensation. The thermometer, though carried
in a pocket, marked 25° Fahr. (or about -4° Cent.) when last
observed. Maw pushed on with increasing vigour, and, in the driving
snow, was soon lost to sight. Presently, shouts were heard, and he
reappeared, saying that he had reached the ridge where the ground
fell away on the southern side, that he could see absolutely nothing
in any direction, and, owing to the severity of the cold, found it
impossible to remain. He estimated the height at rather more than one
hundred feet above the point reached by Ball, who in turn was about
sixty feet above Hooker. They descended through that short space;
and, after very brief deliberation, decided that no more could be
done, and that a speedy descent was the only possible course. The
appearance of the party was singular, and not one could have been
recognised by his nearest friends. Faces of a livid purple tint
were enclosed by masses of hair thickly matted with ice, and the
beards, frozen in the direction of the wind, projected on one side,
giving a strangely distorted expression to each countenance.
After observing the aneroid barometer at the point which we estimated
at 200 feet below the summit, and glancing at our watches, which
marked about 2.30 P.M., we turned downwards, and set out as fast
as our legs would carry us, cutting across the zigzag track now
deeply covered with snow. Before long we got shelter from the
violence of the wind, and began to feel the tingling of returning
circulation in the hands and feet. In places the ground was steep
enough to require a little caution in traversing the rocky slopes,
partly grown over by tufted bushes, all now veiled in fresh snow;
but little delay ensued, and in less than two hours we reached the
bottom of the ravine where the track passes close to the Saint’s
tomb. The shouts of our Shelluh guides had announced our approach,
and we were met by the smiling faces of our Mogador attendants,
who had judiciously made themselves as comfortable as circumstances
permitted by keeping up a fire in the hut.
In the valley little snow had fallen, and that was half melted,
and continued to fall in that intermediate condition between snow
and rain that forms slush, a word of odious import except for its
associations with the Christmas holidays. We learned that the sheik,
Si Hassan, was waiting for us some way lower down in the valley,
and without halting we pushed on to meet him. Long waiting in
cold and wet does not mend any man’s temper, and the sheik,
already much annoyed that his injunctions not to let us go beyond
the Saint’s tomb had been ineffectual, was doubtless in a savage
humour when we at length appeared, after successfully breaking
through all the restraints he had contrived. Yet he managed to put
a good face on the matter, offered his congratulations on our safe
return, and invited us to partake of some food that was provided
in a spot where an overhanging rock gave partial shelter. This
did not save the poor fellows who had done their best to keep us
within the intended limit from a desperate ‘blowing-up,’ and
many threats of future vengeance. Drenched and cold as we were, the
invitation to halt was anything but tempting; but in this country
the obligations of hospitality are binding on the receiver as well
as the giver, and it was necessary to wait some time and eat a few
mouthfuls before proceeding on our homeward way to Arround.
As we approached the village, we witnessed a marvellous exhibition
of colour that, even in our weather-beaten condition, impressed
us with admiration. The steep ridges enclosing the valley were now
thickly powdered with snow, but almost concealed from view by the
clouds that hung low over our heads. Towards sunset these gradually
rose up and melted into mist, and the whole scene was transfused
with a delicate sea-green hue that seemed bright by contrast with
the sombre tints in which we had been enveloped during the day. It
often happens in bad weather that as the distant horizon is lit up
towards sunset the rays, travelling under the dense strata of cloud
that cover a mountain district, produce at that hour the effect of
sudden illumination; but whether the green tint on this occasion
was due to a similar colour in the distant horizon, unseen by us,
or was complementary to the prevailing red colour of the surrounding
rocks, we were unable to decide.
About sunset we reached our house at Arround. The open verandah
on this chilly evening, with the thermometer little over 40°
Fahr., was not the most comfortable place for the evening toilet,
nor for working in after supper. Under ordinary circumstances,
two at least of the party would infallibly have been laid up with
heavy colds or worse; but the last three weeks of open-air life
in this fine climate had put us all into excellent condition. A
moderate supper was despatched with general satisfaction, and no
one suffered further inconvenience from the roughness of the day
or the coldness of the night.
As might have been expected from the unsettled state of the weather,
the observations taken to determine the altitude of Arround had not
been quite satisfactory. The heights deduced from comparison with
Mogador, where the weather was also unsettled, were discordant to the
extent of about 80 feet. A comparison of observations taken here and
at Hasni, on the 13th and 15th inst., with a few hours’ interval,
gave a much nearer agreement; and the mean of these, being 6,463
feet (1,970 m.), is that which we have adopted. A boiling-water
observation at 8 P.M. in the evening, with the temperature of the
air at 40° Fahr., gave a result higher by 20 feet; but it helps
to show that the probable error is not large.
The answers to our inquiries as to the Pass reached during the
day were, as we had reason to believe, designedly vague and
indefinite. It appears to be known as Tagherot, and to serve for
communication with Tifinout, which is the name of a mountain district
with one or more large villages, whose drainage is carried to the
Sous. The main valley of the Sous must, however, lie to the south
of Tifinout, and extend much farther east. Our corrected results
make the point at which our last observation was taken, 4,821 feet
above Arround, giving for the Tagherot Pass 5,021 feet above Arround,
or 11,484 feet (3,500·4 m.) above the sea.
In Appendix A the reasons which showed the necessity for a
considerable correction to the original observations made since
our arrival at Mogador are fully explained. The difference in the
resulting heights throughout our journey is not of much moment as
regards the lower stations; but it increases rapidly with increasing
altitude, and in the case of the Tagherot Pass amounts to about 500
feet. As this correction was disclosed only after careful examination
and comparison of all the observations, the first result, which was
derived from the rough reduction made at the time, communicated
in a letter from Hooker to the late Sir Roderick Murchison,[2]
and which appeared in other published notices of our journey,
is probably erroneous to the extent above mentioned.
Assuming our final results to be pretty nearly correct, and having
been unable to hear of any other easy or frequented pass in this
part of the range, we seem to be justified in concluding that
this section of the Great Atlas chain, as compared with any of
the mountain systems of Europe, maintains a remarkably high mean
level. The height of the projecting summits in the adjoining portions
of the chain was variously estimated by us at 1,500 or 2,000 feet
above the Tagherot Pass. Taking the lower of these estimates, and
assuming the other depressions to be no higher than Tagherot, we
should have for the mean height of the main ridge at least 12,200
feet. Judging from all the distant views we were able to obtain,
the portion of the Atlas chain near the head of the Aït Mesan
valley is very similar in character to that extending eastward
to the sources of the Oued Tessout, and does not reach a higher
elevation. If this opinion be well founded, we have in this part
of the Great Atlas a range, fully 80 miles in length, which in
its mean elevation surpasses any other of equal length in Europe,
or in the countries bordering on the Mediterranean. The chain of
the Pennine Alps, from the Col de Bonhomme to the Simplon, alone
approaches the same limit, as, excluding those limiting passes,
the mean elevation of the dividing ridge for a distance of over 90
miles is about 11,800 English feet. That of the Mont Blanc range,
from the Cime des Fours to the Pointe d’Orny, probably equals
the mean height of the Great Atlas, being about 12,300 feet, but
this is only about 25 miles in length. Excluding the mountains
of Central Asia, and the Andes of Bolivia and Peru, neither of
which can be spoken of as mountain chains in the ordinary sense,
the only considerable range surpassing the Atlas in height is the
higher part of the Caucasus, between the peaks of Elbruz and Kasbek,
whose mean height, for a distance exceeding 110 miles, must reach,
if it does not surpass, the limit of 13,000 feet.
Our usual evening occupation was pursued under greater difficulties
than usual. There was not much wind; but the cold was severely felt
in the open verandah, and the portion of our day’s harvest that
was gathered in a wet state had to be left till the morning’s
light should enable us to give our specimens the requisite treatment.
Our design, not disclosed to any of our native followers, had
been to remain another day at Arround, and, if circumstances were
favourable, to ascend some projecting point in the range that should
command a panoramic view. We had, however, scarcely opened our eyes
on the morning of May 17 when we clearly perceived that the fates
had decided against our scheme. Snow had fallen steadily during the
night, and both branches of the valley above the village were thickly
covered. The sky overhead was of the same leaden complexion as that
of the previous day, and flakes of snow falling slowly showed that
the disposition of the weather continued unchanged. The continuous
fall of the barometer for three days before the rain set in had
prepared us for a persistent fit of bad weather; so we were less
disappointed than we should otherwise have been, and acquiesced as
a matter of course in the preparations for our departure.
The natives still flocked to the entrance of our house, seeking
medical advice from the Christian _hakim_. When these had been
disposed of, and all seemed ready for our departure, an unexpected
incident occurred. Eight or ten women, dragging with them a sheep,
entered the house in a tumultuous way, crowding up the stairs and
into the verandah, addressed vehement entreaties to Hooker, and
suddenly cut the sheep’s throat in his presence. Then followed
more passionate entreaties, a document was thrust into his hand,
and we were left at a loss to guess the meaning of the strange
scene. At length, through Ambak’s increasing skill as interpreter,
the matter was made sufficiently clear. A number of men of the
village, the husbands or fathers of our suppliants, had been carried
off as prisoners to Marocco, for non-payment of taxes, and were
there confined in the horrible subterranean dungeons that serve as
prisons. The object of these poor women was to obtain from El Graoui
an order for their release, through the intercession of Hooker. A
promise to do what was possible on their behalf was readily given;
but, although a courteous answer was afterwards sent through the
consul at Mogador, it may be feared that little attention was paid
by the powerful Governor of this region to the representations of
Christian strangers.
The state of the prisons in Marocco is one of many scandals that
disgrace the administration of this country, though an apologist
might suggest that in this respect Marocco is only a century or
two behind the most civilised States of Europe, and not thirty
years behind the late kingdom of Naples. When in the city of
Marocco, we were told that about 4,000 prisoners, of whom the large
majority were unlucky peasants, unable or unwilling to pay taxes,
were confined in dungeons. Criminals who have committed murders
and robberies frequently escape by taking refuge at some of the
numerous sanctuaries scattered over the whole territory, while
lesser offenders and mere defaulters are caught wholesale. No food
is provided for prisoners by the authorities; but the means of
keeping body and soul together are generally forthcoming, through
the kindness of relatives, or the charitable feeling which is common
here, as in other Mohammedan countries.
The survival among the Bereber tribes of the practice of sacrificing
an animal to propitiate the favour of a man in authority, is a
fact deserving the attention of ethnologists. Another instance
of a similar kind came to our knowledge a few weeks later, and
we had recently seen that the same rite is observed to avert the
displeasure of evil spirits.
Our increased acquaintance with the flora of the Great Atlas did
not much modify our first impressions. Making due allowance for
the earliness of the season, and for the adverse conditions that
may have concealed from us some species inhabiting the higher zone,
it was clear that the vegetation here differs very much from that of
all the lofty mountain masses of Southern Europe and Western Asia,
and especially in the absence of those families that elsewhere form
the chief ornaments of the higher mountain zone, and which we are
accustomed to associate with the glories of the Alpine flora. There
was here to be seen no gentian, no primrose or _Androsace_, no
rhododendron, no anemone, no potentilla, and none but lowland forms
of saxifrage and ranunculus.
Our first impression had been that the flora is absolutely very poor;
but this was due mainly to the fact that so large a proportion of
the plants have inconspicuous flowers. Comparing the produce of our
day’s work with that of high mountain excursions made elsewhere,
the species are not deficient in variety, but show a singularly small
proportion of showy flowers. As regards novelty, we had nothing
to complain of; for, in the upper part of this valley, out of 151
species collected, 31 are described as new; and, so far as we know,
are peculiar to the Great Atlas chain. This gives about the same
proportion of endemic species as the Sierra Nevada of Granada,
always regarded as a singularly rich botanical district.
The most remarkable feature of the flora of this region,
is, undoubtedly, the very large proportion of common plants of
the colder temperate region (Central and North-Western Europe),
here found associated with species of very different type. Nearly
one-half (70 out of 151) of the species found in the upper zone,
belong to this category, and the proportion is here actually larger
than it is in the higher mountains of Southern Spain. It was further
remarkable that several of these northern species, such as the wild
gooseberry, are plants that do not extend to the South of Spain,
although climatal conditions must be at least equally favourable,
and whose nearest known habitat is six or seven hundred miles
distant. Especially to be noted was the fact that, with the
doubtful exception of _Sagina Linnæi_ (the _Spergula saginoides_
of the older botanists), not one of the plants in question is
characteristically an Alpine species, or typical of the Arctic or
glacial flora. Combining this with the almost complete absence of
rushes and sedges, we are forced to conclude that, whatever agencies
may have contributed to make up the existing flora of the Great
Atlas, transport by floating ice during the last glacial period
cannot have been amongst them. If such ice-rafts were ever borne to
what was then probably a long western peninsula of Northern Africa,
they must either have foundered at sea with all their vegetable
crew, or, if cast ashore, must have found an inhospitable region
where the voyagers were starved, and left no descendants.
As was to be expected, from the habitual dryness of the climate,
ferns were here deficient in number and variety. In the upper region
we found very sparingly six of the common species of Northern Europe;
and lower down, in the middle part of the valley, we were able to
add to our lists but two southern forms.
About one-third only of the species found in the upper-region could
be described as properly belonging to the Mediterranean flora; most
of these being widely-spread plants, while a few are exclusively
confined to the nearest neighbouring mountain regions—the Lesser
Atlas of Algeria or the mountains of Southern Spain. But there
was little in the general aspect of the vegetation to suggest any
special connection with either; and several of the conspicuous
plants have been hitherto known only in very distant regions. A
bright-flowered _Veronica_ appeared to be no more than a large
variety of a species peculiar to Asia Minor; _Medicago suffruticosa_
had hitherto been seen only in the Pyrenees; and _Evax Heldreichii_
had been detected nowhere nearer than the mountains of Sicily and
Eastern Algeria. Our original expectation of finding some connecting
links between the special flora of the Canary Islands and that of
North Africa was so far completely negatived, and we saw nothing
to suggest their existence.
The most prominent characteristics of the mountain flora of the Great
Atlas were found to be of a negative character. If asked to point out
the positive features that most struck us, we should in the first
place note the prevalence of _Cruciferæ_ and _Caryophylleæ_,
the former reckoning one-ninth and the latter one-tenth of the
whole number of flowering plants. Of conspicuous genera we had
especially remarked _Chrysanthemum_, _Galium_, and _Linaria_. Of
the first of these we found two new species, one of which, from
its remarkable buff-coloured rays and large scarious involucres,
has been named _Chrysanthemum Catananche_.
The state of the weather and the earliness of the season may
partially account for the scarcity of animal life in the upper
part of the Aït Mesan valley; but, from all we could learn, this
appears to be a characteristic feature of the Great Atlas. The lion
is said to exist in the lower valleys, and especially in Sous, but
we were led to suspect that the animal so called by the natives
is the leopard. The lion undoubtedly exists in the low country,
but appears to be now rare. Those sent as presents from the Sultan
to crowned heads have generally been taken in the valleys east of
Fez. The only one of the Carnivora seen by us was a rather large
creature, resembling a civet in form, but with no markings on the
yellowish brown fur, once seen near our camp at Hasni. Birds were
remarkably scarce, and the only conspicuous kind observed near
enough to be identified much resembled the red-legged partridge,
and was seen at a height of from 9,000 to 10,000 feet in the ascent
to the Tagherot Pass. Instead of going in pairs, as that species
is used to do, these formed a small covey. A single scorpion,
of large size, seemingly of the species common in the low country,
was found under a stone by Maw. Of the numerous reptiles that abound
about the skirts of the mountain range, few, except lizards, seem
to frequent the interior valleys; and the latter are wanting, or
at least rare, in the higher region. Insects were also infrequent,
and none were found under stones above the level of 9,000 feet.
Our brief stay among the Shelluhs in this valley helped to confirm
our previous impression that they form the best element in the
population of Marocco. How much of this superiority is due to
race, and how much to the conditions of existence in a mountain
country, where steady labour is indispensable, may be a question
for discussion; but as the same is also apparent among the people
long settled in the low country at the foot of the mountains, it may
be inferred that the inherited qualities of the mountain tribes are
not speedily lost when they are subjected to altered conditions. We
are told by Rohlfs that on the northern skirts of the Marocco Sahara
the Shelluhs have adopted a predatory life, and are the most dreaded
of all the wandering robbers of that region. But when we learn that
all the fertile oases of the Sahara have been monopolised by a small
class of Arab descent, who rest their claims on religious authority,
it is not apparent that there is any alternative for those who do
not belong to the privileged class; and, under such an anomalous
condition of society, the energy of the superior race will show
itself in robbery, where that becomes the only means of obtaining
a livelihood. To judge from what we saw of the country, the best
thing that could happen for Marocco would be the substitution
for the Moorish government of an authority strong enough to keep
the Bereber tribes from intestine feuds, and intelligent enough to
leave them a large measure of self-government, under a moderate and
just fiscal system. Gradual extension of irrigation works would fit
for cultivation large tracts now unproductive, and the superfluous
population of the mountain valleys would spread into the plains,
and develop the latent resources of the country. If it be said that
the gradual diffusion of more intelligent ideas of government may
gradually draw the Sultans of Marocco into the path of progress, and
thus effect without violence as rapid an advance as is compatible
with the ideas and character of the native population, the answer
seems to be that this supposition is not probable in itself, and
is not justified by experience.
For over a thousand years since the date of the Saracen conquest
the two races that make up the population have remained perfectly
distinct. The gradual extension of the central authority may have
done something for the maintenance of external tranquillity, but it
has been marked by a general and persistent decline in the prosperity
of the country. It suffices to read the description given by Leo
Africanus, himself a Moor, of the numerous large and thriving towns
visited by him in the early years of the sixteenth century, just
at the time when they were brought under the rule of the Moorish
Sultans, to measure the vast falling off that has since followed.
The Moorish government is marked by two fatal defects, from which
it seems unlikely to free itself. That religious fanaticism should
have taken deep root in a country long exposed to the attacks of not
less fanatical enemies was quite inevitable; but for two centuries
there has been peace with Portugal, and the brief Spanish war in
1861 does not seem to have much altered the state of feeling as to
Europeans; yet the hatred to Christians as such seems to be quite
as strong among the Moors at this day as at any former period, and
while it exists must continue to be a serious barrier to industrial
progress. Among the Shelluhs fanaticism has evidently no deep hold
on the people. Some of the chiefs may share, or affect to share,
in what they doubtless consider the tone of good society among the
rulers of the country; but our experience of the people agrees with
that of Jackson, who lived for some time near Agadir, and found
there a positive desire among the people of all classes that he
should establish himself permanently among them.
More serious even than fanaticism, as an obstacle to good government,
is the seeming incapacity of the Moor to estimate any but immediate
results, or to make any effort of which the good effect will not be
very speedily visible. To prove to a Sultan of Marocco that such a
public work or other improvement would double his revenue at the end
of twenty or thirty years would be sheer waste of breath. It would
never occur to a Moor that a benefit so distant, however great,
was worth the slightest present exertion. Hence the utter neglect
of public works, of mineral wealth, and of the forests which should
be an abundant source of national wealth.
We were somewhat surprised to find among the Aït Mesan people, a
decided taste for ornament, of which no trace is perceptible among
the Arabs of the low country. We noticed that the lintels of the
doors at Arround were decorated with rude carving in geometrical
patterns, diamonds, circles, and triangles. Saddlecloths had similar
chequered patterns in black and white, reminding Hooker of fabrics
made by the Lepchas in Sikkim.
We had scarcely started to descend the valley when it began to
sleet. As soon as we reached the village below, this turned to rain,
which continued with little intermission throughout the day. The
halt for luncheon offered little attraction to any of the party,
and was curtailed as much as possible. It is a proof of the variety
of the vegetation, that although we had already twice passed through
the valley, and made considerable collections, we noticed on this
occasion two or three plants growing close to the path which none
of us had before seen.
A little anxiety was felt as to the ford in the river; and in truth
it was a piece of good fortune that the weather had been so cold,
and that snow instead of rain had fallen on the mountains. A slight
rise of the stream must make the ford impassable. We might have
made our way on foot along the E. side of the valley, though this
appears pathless below the ford, and discovered some way for passing
the stream lower down; but our baggage and precious collections
could scarcely have followed that way, and practically we should
have been prisoners for several days. As it was, the water at the
ford was no higher than usual; the increased supply from the lower
slopes was doubtless compensated by the cutting off of the drainage
of the upper region, now deeply covered with snow.
Soon after crossing the stream, we were met by Abraham, dressed in
his best, who in this valley assumed quite a lofty air. He informed
us, with a tone of great elation, that the country people took him
for a sherreeff, and, had come out to ask a Jew for his blessing. The
path was in places very slippery, and it was impossible to travel
fast, and so it happened that the daylight was beginning to fade when
we returned to our camp. This displayed a doleful spectacle. After
more than twenty-four hours’ rain the piece of flat ground which we
had selected was turned into a large pool of slippery mud. Hooker’s
tent had been left standing; but the wet had worked its way inside,
and there was scarcely a dry spot to be found, while there was no
choice but to pitch the smaller tents in the midst of the general
sludge. In such a case the best plan is to make a floor of branches
and leafy twigs, and the carob trees that grew close at hand were
at once requisitioned for the purpose. The Alpine Club tent, though
the canvas was wet, when set over this rough flooring, afforded
very tolerable shelter and freedom from the all-pervading mud.
The advantages of this tent were further proved during the
night. When pitched in open ground it depends, like every other
tent, on such support as tent pegs can give; but when trees are
at hand the supporting rope can be rigged fore and aft in such a
way as to defy any storm to upset it. During the night a furious
gale arose, as it seemed, quite suddenly, accompanied by torrents
of rain; the tent pegs were drawn out of the muddy soil; and twice
Hooker’s tent fell bodily to the ground, luckily with no other
bad result than to envelop the sleeper in the clammy folds of the
wet canvas. The soldiers contrived to keep their tent standing;
but those who mounted guard, and the natives sent by the sheik for
the same duty, must have passed a miserable night. The excitement
caused by the falling of the tent, when the whole camp turned out
with loud outcries, must have been welcome as a relief from the
dreariness of the time.
The storm of the night marked the end of the bad weather, and the
morning of the 18th brought back to us the clear air and blue sky
to which we had been hitherto accustomed, and which rarely left
us during the remainder of our journey. The morning hours were
fully occupied, and the short time we could spare for examining
the low ground near our camp enabled us to add several species to
our lists. Having packed up our collections in tolerable condition,
notwithstanding all the difficulties of the last few days, we made
ready to start a little before mid-day, having arranged for a short
day’s journey.
The vegetation of this valley offers so many points of interest
that it has seemed better to reserve a fuller account of the flora
of this and the Amsmiz valley for the Appendix.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: For further particulars as to the mountain flora,
see Appendix E.]
[Footnote 2: Printed in the _Proceedings of the Royal Geographical
Society_, for 1871.]
CHAPTER X.
Departure from Hasni — Plateau of Sektana — Grand View of
the Great Atlas — Departure of Maw — Village of Gurgouri —
Intrigues of Kaïd el Hasbi — Passage of the Oued Nfys — Arrival
at Amsmiz — Friendly Governor — Difficulties as to further
progress — Position of Amsmiz — Sleeping quarters in the _Kasbah_
— Fanatical sheik — Shelluh market — View of the Amsmiz valley
— Village of Iminteli — Friendly Jews — Geological structure
and vegetation of the valley — Sheik’s opposition overcome —
Ascent of Djebel Tezah — The guide left behind — View from the
summit — Anti-Atlas seen at last — Deserted dwellings on the peak
— Ancient oak forest — Rapid descent — Night ride to Iminteli.
In departing from our camp at Hasni, on May 18, our cavalcade
was escorted by the friendly sheik, Si Hassan, and two other
native chiefs. Up to the last moment, sick people had continued to
arrive from distant villages, and some of the late-comers were left
unattended. As we started, the population of the adjoining hamlet,
who were gathered round the camp, gave unequivocal tokens of good
will and kindly wishes towards the strange visitors, doubtless due
to the good effects of Hooker’s medical advice; and more friendly
salutations reached us at the villages as we passed. After descending
the main valley for a distance of three or four miles, we turned
to the left, and began to ascend in a westerly direction towards a
depression in the hills that enclosed us on that side. The opuntia
and palmetto here grew to a large size; and among many less familiar
forms, the oleander was a conspicuous ornament, growing freely up
to about 4,500 feet above the sea.
As we gradually wound upwards, and the Aït Mesan valley was finally
lost to view, we found that, instead of reaching a pass whence we
should descend into an adjoining valley more or less parallel to that
which we had left, the country before us was an undulating plateau,
extending over a space of many miles, through which no stream
runs from the higher mountains towards the plain. This plateau
does not subside gradually towards the low country as might have
been expected; for at almost every point we found higher ground
lying between us and the plain, in the form of rounded eminences,
rising some three or four hundred feet above the plateau. The soil
was calcareous, and the underlying pale limestone cropped up here
and there; but the stratification appeared very irregular. In
some places we noticed bosses of intrusive igneous rock of dark
colour. Though no villages were in sight, most of the surface was
under rude tillage; but the fields were gay with a multitude of
wild species in full flower.
After the excitement of the preceding days, the afternoon ride
seemed uneventful in a botanical sense, as we failed to find much
that was altogether new. The most interesting forms were several
fine _Orobanches_, which might here be studied with profit by a
traveller less pressed for time than we were. A great feast of colour
was presented to us as we approached Sektana, our camping place,
by a magnificent new _Linaria_, of which we had hitherto seen only
stunted and starved specimens. In some fields of corn not yet in ear,
the spikes of numerous dark crimson flowers all but concealed the
green, and gave to the surface a tone of subdued splendour. The
plant has been described by Hooker, in the _Botanical Magazine_
(vol. 98, No. 5983), as _Linaria Maroccana_. The artist, who had
not seen the wild plant, has failed to attain the rich tint of
the native flowers. In cultivation, the colour loses its original
depth, and in some gardens it has faded to a pale purple or violet
tint. From this, and other differences shown in cultivation, it seems
possible that this may be an extreme form of _Linaria heterophylla_
of Desfontaines, a plant so different in appearance that, at first
sight, no one would suspect very near relationship between them.
Our camp this evening was fixed on open ground, near the village
of Sektana. To the north, between us and the plain, a hill rose
some 400 or 500 feet, crowned by a castellated building, somewhat
similar to that at Tasseremout, of which all that we could learn
was that it had been built by Christians or Romans, the same word,
as before observed, bearing either interpretation. To the south, the
plateau stretched away in rolling downs, unbroken by tree or house,
save a few small plants—probably fruit trees—growing near the
village, about half-a-mile from our camp. We were received, on our
arrival, with some show of cordiality by three native sheiks; and a
_mona_, on a scale sufficient to satisfy even our greedy soldiers,
was forthcoming during the evening.
It appeared that Hooker’s fame as a physician had already spread
far and wide, to an extent that might, indeed, have been inconvenient
if we had remained longer in this district. On this evening, and
the following morning, troops of applicants for medical relief
continued to arrive at our camp, and amongst them a _moullah_ of
reputed sanctity, from Moulaï Ibrahim, troubled with some painful
affection of the eyes.
Between the ordinary work at our plants, writing up journals, and
completing a letter from Hooker to the late Sir Roderick Murchison,
with a brief account of our proceedings up to this point, the
evening was fully occupied, and we enjoyed the change of climate
that had accompanied the return of fine weather. The thermometer
at 8 P.M. did not fall below 58°, and the mean of two closely
accordant observations gave for the height of our camp, 4,523 feet
(1,378·7 m.) above the sea level.
The morning of May 19 broke brilliantly. Although on the preceding
day we had travelled under a blue sky, the higher mountains had
been concealed by dense masses of fleecy _cumuli_, and we were
not prepared for the grandeur of the panoramic view that was spread
before our eyes, as we sallied from our tents in the early morning. A
large portion of the range of the Great Atlas of Marocco stood robed
in glittering snow down to a height of about 7,000 feet above the sea
level, only the projecting ribs of rock appearing through the white
vestment along the higher and steeper ridges. In the annexed sketch
is shown the part of the range nearest to our camp, lying between the
head of the Aït Mesan valley, and that of the next adjoining (much
shorter) valley that opened nearly due south from our station. The
view, however, extended in both directions far beyond the nearer part
of the range. The high peaks of the Ourika district were sharply
cut against the sky, but so crowded together that their relative
position was not apparent. Farther east were other high peaks,
probably belonging to the district of Glaoui. Turning westward, it
was seen that to the right of the high group shown in the sketch,
the valley which feeds the main branch of the Oued Nfys runs deep
into the main range, which here sinks to the comparatively low level
of about 7,500 feet. Towards this valley the high snow-clad mass
before us fell with comparatively easy slopes, nowhere difficult
of access; and we indulged in the hope that, by fixing our camp
pretty high up, we should be able to effect another ascent.
To the west of this great gap the main chain rises again to a
considerable height, but less by at least 2,000 feet than that of the
central range which we were now about to leave. The western range
also differs in being less continuous; the peaks are comparatively
isolated, and of massive, conical form; and the intervening passes
do not seem to rise above the level of tree vegetation. We observed
that, even allowing for its lesser elevation, the western range
showed much less snow, whether because during the recent bad weather
the precipitation was more considerable on the eastern group, or
because in the region nearer to the ocean this had fallen mainly
in the form of rain.
[Illustration:_J. B. delt._
WEST END OF THE MAROCCO ATLAS FROM SEKTANA]
After a rather late breakfast, the hour fixed for the departure of
our travelling companion having arrived, we with much regret bade
adieu to Maw, whose engagements in England hastened his return. He
carried with him a considerable collection of living plants which,
owing to his skill and experience in managing this difficult process,
arrived in excellent condition, and have since thriven in his garden
in Shropshire. The soldiers of our escort who accompanied him to
Mogador, bore orders to the local authorities which ensured their
respect and attention, and, as we afterwards learned, his journey
was in every way successful.
Mid-day had passed before we started from Sektana, the morning hours
having been employed in collecting and laying in paper a tolerably
large mass of specimens. Our course lay over the plateau, whose
undulations gradually subsided towards the Oued Nfys. At a distance
of some seven miles from our camp we reached the brow of a range of
low broken cliffs of white limestone, facing westward towards the
broad valley of that stream. They are at a considerable distance
from the present bed, but were doubtless formed by erosion at a
distant period when the level was much higher than it now is. Among
other plants, a variety of the wild caper (described as _Capparis
ægyptia_ by Lamarck) was here common, and was afterwards often seen
in similar stations as we travelled westward. The flowers-buds are
eaten raw by the natives, who call them _Pan_.
Below us, on the fertile tract extending for three or four miles from
the foot of the cliffs towards the Oued Nfys, stood the village of
Gurgouri, overlooked by two _kasbahs_ belonging to the Governor of
the district which we had now entered, also called Gurgouri. The
older fortress-like building, standing on a projecting rock, was
apparently uninhabited, and the Kaïd dwelt in a less imposing
structure close to the village.
Our present design was to approach the high summits of the Atlas
that we had viewed in the morning through one of the lateral
valleys of the Oued Nfys, whence, as it appeared, the ascent might
be effected without serious difficulty. The leaders of our escort
had ridden on before to announce our arrival, and, after a short
halt, we approached the village through a belt of gardens and olive
groves. No Governor appeared to meet us, but only a messenger with
some lame excuse for his non-appearance. It would seem that our
dissatisfaction at this want of attention was speedily reported, and
that the Kaïd’s second thoughts were different from his first,
for he presently appeared just at the entrance to his _kasbah_. He
was a tall, handsome man, courteous, but no way cordial in his
greeting. He invited us to stop at this place, offering at the
same time a suitable _mona_. It was necessary, however, to bring
the question as to our further progress to a speedy decision; and
when the proposal to ascend the neighbouring mountains was met by a
positive refusal, and an intimation that such an expedition might
be effected from Amsmiz, the adjoining district to the W. of the
Oued Nfys, Hooker at once decided to continue our journey, and to
refuse the proffered entertainment.
It appeared that our refusal was felt by the Kaïd as a slight;
so, by way of offering an irresistible attraction, a cow was led
out and slaughtered on the spot, close to the _kasbah_. Fresh beef
is a delicacy rarely found in Marocco; but even this failed to
move us. Our greedy soldiers were furious at being baulked of the
opportunity for feasting and idling, which they evidently considered
the main object of their mission, and our departure from Gurgouri was
accompanied by the surly faces and muttered grumblings of our escort.
It was only on the following day that, owing to the continuing
feud between the two men, we learned, through our Mogador captain,
that Kaïd el Hasbi had here once more been scheming to frustrate
the objects of our journey. In announcing our arrival, he at once
prejudiced the Governor of Gurgouri against the intrusive Christians,
who had come to visit his district, and directly advised him not to
let us enter the mountain valleys. It is likely that this conduct
was as much prompted by a keen recollection of the discomfort of his
recent five days’ stay in the Aït Mesan valley, and the poorer
fare there available, as by mere fanatic dislike to Christians and
strangers; but we all know how readily fanaticism allies itself
with the baser passions of human nature, and neither were wanting
in Kaïd el Hasbi. In any case, it was only natural that a local
Governor should take his cue from the man who seemed to be the
personal representative of the authorities in Marocco.
If our soldiers were disappointed at missing a feast, we were in no
better humour at being foiled in what appeared a hopeful project. We
silently rode for nearly an hour amidst well-cultivated fields and
gardens before we finally reached the banks of the Oued Nfys, at
a village called Nurzam. The channel was some 300 yards in width,
cut out from the soft limestone strata that rose on either side
in steep banks about thirty feet high; while, in spite of the
recent rains, the stream was only about twenty yards in width,
and everywhere shallow. The day was so far advanced that we could
not linger here—a fact the more to be regretted as we found,
on the dry gravelly bed of the stream, several plants not before
seen during our journey. Among these were _Salvia ægyptiaca_,
and a curious _Antirrhinum_, nearly allied to, but different from,
the Algerian _A. ramosissimum_.
On the west side of the Oued Nfys, the ground rises gradually,
but not nearly to so high a level as the plateau of Sektana. The
underlying rock throughout the space between this and the next valley
descending from the Atlas appears to be covered with a thick red
earthy deposit, sometimes of the consistence of clay, sometimes of
a more friable character, doubtless formed at the expense of the
portion of the Atlas at the head of the valley of the Oued Nfys.
No indications of glacial action were observed in this region,
or in the Amsmiz valley which we were about to visit. On the way
to Amsmiz we crossed a ravine fully 200 feet in depth, cut by a
streamlet through the clay beds, without reaching the underlying
rock. The country was in great part under tillage, and, although we
passed no villages, must maintain a considerable population. A few
interesting plants were seen; but time was pressing, and we could not
afford to halt. The sun set, casting a brilliant red glow over the
heaving plain that lingered for a short space longer on the flanks
of the mountains which here rise more abruptly than in the district
near Marocco. Our course was directed towards the narrow opening
of a valley, cleft through the outer range of the Atlas, which we
had already descried from a distance; and, after a gradual descent,
we arrived, about 8.15 P.M., some time after dark, at Amsmiz.[1]
This is the most considerable place on the northern declivity of
the Great Atlas, and, from the number of inhabitants, may deserve to
rank as a town. It stands on a shelf of flat rocky ground, somewhat
above the level of the adjoining plain, and nearly 200 feet above
the stream issuing from the mountains close at hand, which, for want
of any other name, we have called the Amsmiz torrent. The Governor
of this district was, as we learned, a man of some consequence,
being a nephew of El Graoui, and brother-in-law of the Governor of
Mogador. We considered it a favourable omen that, as we approached
our camping ground close to the town, this functionary, with a motley
train of torchbearers, came out to meet us, and, with much show of
cordiality, welcomed us to his district. He was almost quite black,
and of nearly pure Negro type, with the sensual, but apparently
good-humoured expression that is common among that race. It was too
late to discuss business on this evening; and the less necessary
to do so, as we knew that our large and precious collections made
in the Aït Mesan valley, and put up in indifferent condition,
would require a full day’s work, before we could undertake a
new excursion of any importance. An abundant _mona_ was provided;
and general satisfaction appeared to prevail in the camp at having
reached this Capua of the Great Atlas.
The 20th of May was a day of rest for the men and animals of our
party; but of rather hard work for the two botanists, who were for
eight or nine hours busily engaged in putting their collections into
order, and transferring the specimens from damp to dry paper. The
system of ventilating gratings which we adopted, works admirably
in a dry climate, and especially when it is possible to expose the
parcels to sunshine; and in such conditions most plants may be dried
without a single change of paper. The case is different when, owing
to rain, or the dampness of the climate, the paper cannot be well
dried, and the plants have to be laid in in a more or less moist
condition. Artificial heat may sometimes be applied; but this is
rarely available for travellers in such a country as Marocco.
It was necessary to interrupt the work during the forenoon, in order
to pay a visit to the Governor. This was no matter of mere ceremony,
as it was essential to obtain his consent and assistance towards
carrying out the design—on which we had fixed our hearts—of
penetrating to the head of the Amsmiz valley, and climbing some
one of the higher adjoining peaks. We knew, indeed, that in this
part of the range, the Great Atlas does not attain so high a level
as it does farther east; but as the summits must reach a height of
fully 11,000 feet, they could not fail to exhibit the characteristic
vegetation of the higher zone, and at the same time, unless we were
again pursued by bad weather, command a wide view over the unknown
country, on the south side of the chain.
The Governor was courteous and even friendly in manner, and in
general terms expressed his readiness to forward the objects of our
journey. He seemed pleased with the articles which Hooker presented
to him—a musical box, an opera-glass, and a long sheath-knife;
but when a thermometer was added, and an attempt made to explain
the use of the instrument, he at once returned it, saying that it
would be of no service, and that he would much prefer a brace of
pistols. The pistols were promised, and an unsuccessful attempt was
actually made to forward them a year later. All had gone smoothly so
far; but we were much disappointed when, the practical question of
our intended exploration of the Amsmiz valley being brought forward,
our friendly Governor expressed himself distinctly opposed to it,
the only ground assigned being some doubt as to our safety. As the
misbehaviour of Kaïd el Hasbi on the previous day had come to our
knowledge during the interval, we at once came to the conclusion that
the real obstacle was due to his machinations. On returning to our
camp, Hooker summoned El Hasbi, and administered a ‘blowing-up,’
which produced the most salutary results. He was told that we were
thoroughly aware of his treacherous conduct, and duly warned that
if any further difficulty were thrown in the way of our reaching the
high mountains, as we were fully authorised to do, a report should be
sent to the Viceroy and to El Graoui, with a request that another
officer should be sent to take charge of our escort. This drew
forth a multitude of excuses, and profuse promises to do all that
was possible to carry out our wishes. The effect was soon apparent;
for we learned in the course of the afternoon that the Governor
had summoned the sheik of the valley, in order to arrange for our
visit, while at the same time we received an invitation to sleep
that night in the _kasbah_, which we thought it judicious to accept.
In the afternoon we went out for a stroll, and were able to form
a better idea than we had hitherto done of the character of the
scenery. The position of Amsmiz somewhat reminds one of that of
villages in Piedmont, that stand at the opening of some of the
interior valleys of the Alps, and still more of similar places in
the Apennines of Central and Southern Italy. The lofty hills that
form the outer extremity of the spurs diverging from the Great
Atlas slope rather steeply towards the plain, while the torrent
issues from them through a cleft so narrow that no path is carried
along it into the valley. Trees, that naturally clothe the outer
ranges of the Alps, are here very scarce, and the upper declivity,
as commonly in the Apennine, is covered with brushwood and low
shrubs; while the lower slopes are partly under tillage, or else
planted with olive and fig trees. We descended from the plateau,
where our camp stood close to the town of Amsmiz at 3,382 feet
(1,030·7 m.) above the sea, by steeply sloping banks to the level of
the torrent; and followed this for some distance, collecting plants
by the way; and then made a circuit among fields, enclosed by high
hedges, in which grew a profusion of climbing plants. The chief
prize of our excursion was a curious new species of _Marrubium_,
whose spherical heads of flowers are beset with long stiff bristles
hooked at the end, formed by the elongated lower teeth of the calyx.
It was not without misgivings that we quitted our tents in the
evening to repair to the Governor’s _kasbah_. We had hitherto
been very successful in escaping the varied noxious insects that
prey on the human body, and which the walls of the first house we
had seen in Marocco and the concurrent testimony of all who know
the country declare to abound throughout the empire; but it now
seemed as if we must confront these enemies under circumstances
where we could not, without giving offence, resort to energetic
measures of precaution. We were, therefore, agreeably surprised,
when our host conducted us to a room which, at least to the eye,
seemed scrupulously clean. Two beds were arranged, nearly in
European fashion, on low bedsteads; of other furniture there was
none, excepting a low carpet-covered divan. On the sill of a window
we found four or five Arabic books, the only ones which we saw in
the possession of a native in this country. Our report the next
morning agreed, that we had not been attacked by any enemy more
formidable than a few intrusive fleas.
Our slumbers during the night were made more agreeable by the
satisfactory information that all the requisite arrangements had
been made for our excursion in the Amsmiz valley, on the following
day. The sheik, as we were told, would provide a house for our
occupation in the highest village; and though nothing definite was
said as to the precise limits of our expedition, we relied on luck
and good guidance to turn our opportunities to account.
We rose early on the morning of the 21st, and employed some spare
time in looking about us. The _kasbah_ was not nearly so large as
many that we had seen, but was distinguished by a certain air of
neatness, and there were sundry indications that its possessor was
superior in general intelligence and appreciation of civilised life
to those we had hitherto dealt with in Marocco. In the court there
was a small garden, wherein grew some large bushes of a curious
variety of the common myrtle, having the young branches and leaves
covered with a fine downy pubescence, the leaves were of large size,
and much crowded together, giving the plant a peculiar aspect. We did
not observe the myrtle in a wild state anywhere in South Marocco; and
these plants probably came from some gardens in the city of Marocco.
The sheik of the valley made his appearance in due time, and
we at once perceived that he was reluctantly pressed into the
service. He presented an example, unusual among the Shelluhs, of
genuine religious fanaticism, never relaxing, during the three days
which we passed in his company, from an attitude of undisguised
aversion to the Christians, whom he was forced to treat with a
faint show of outward civility. We afterwards learned that it was
by his express order, that his people were prevented from applying
for medical advice, and kept aloof from us during our stay in the
valley, not even replying to the ordinary courteous salutation. The
latter is quite a remarkable incident, and without example in our
pretty wide experience of Oriental people.
Our party was as far as possible reduced in number, most of our
followers and all the escort, except two soldiers, being left
behind. After the usual delay, we were under way soon after 10
P.M. Instead of directing our course towards the cleft by which the
torrent issues from the mountains, we left the little town by the
side farthest from the stream, and rode across the strip of plain
lying between it and the outer range of steep hills. After riding
about a mile we came to a place where, according to the usage of the
country, the weekly market was being held. A considerable crowd of
wild-looking people, most of them apparently mountaineers, formed a
busy throng, wherein, under different dress and aspect, human nature
showed itself much the same as it does everywhere else. One half of
the crowd was intent on business, and hard bargains were driven where
the difference between the seller and the buyer may not have exceeded
the tenth part of a farthing. The rest were mere idlers, come to
while away the time in gossip, or in listening to professional
story-tellers, or in beholding the feats of serpent-charmers,
who make a precarious living by frequenting these gatherings.
We soon reached the hills, and began to mount by a well-beaten,
but rather steep path. The vegetation on the dry stony slopes,
mainly covered with brushwood, was already much parched, and we
noticed nothing of especial interest till we reached the top of
the ridge overlooking the valley of Amsmiz. Here stood two lonely
poplars, and an old weather-beaten trunk measuring about five and a
half feet in circumference, seemingly of high antiquity. The tree
appeared to be in no way different from the _Juniperus Oxycedrus_
of Southern Europe, except that this rarely exceeds the dimensions
of a bush five or six feet high.
We now began to obtain a clearer view of the portion of the Atlas
chain which it was our present object to explore. The valley before
us was evidently different in character from those which we had
hitherto seen. Especially throughout its lower part, it is a mere
trench, whose sides slope with increasing steepness towards the
bed of the stream; while the flanks, throughout a zone of from one
to two thousand feet above the water, are but slightly inclined,
and afford space for numerous villages and for cultivation. It is
much shorter than the valleys in the Ourika and Reraya districts;
and, instead of being enclosed at its head by a continuous ridge of
great height, we here saw a single lofty snow-streaked peak at the
head of the valley, apparently separated from the next eminences on
either side by comparatively low passes, over which an easy passage
to the Sous valley must be found. The peak which was the obvious
aim of our expedition is known to the Moors as Djebel Tezah, or
Tezi, and its summit, which had already attracted our notice from
Sektana, can scarcely be more than fifteen or sixteen miles, as
the bird flies, from the point where the torrent enters the plain
near Amsmiz; whereas, in the part of the chain first visited by us,
the watershed must be everywhere more than twenty miles from the
northern foot of the mountains.
Our track descended slightly from the top of the ridge above Amsmiz,
and then continued nearly at a level for a considerable distance,
the torrent, which ran at a great depth below us on the right, being
usually concealed from view by the convexity of the slope. We soon
observed that several villages lying on the upper slopes were mere
piles of ruin. Some, as we learned, had been destroyed by hostile
tribes, and others had been abandoned by their inhabitants who had
migrated elsewhere. Perhaps owing to the scantiness of the present
population, timber was more abundant here than usual in the Great
Atlas. Besides larger trees at intervals, the slopes along which we
rode were to a great extent covered with oak scrub to such an extent
as to leave little space for herbaceous plants. The prevailing form
of oak in this part of the valley tends to confirm the opinion of
those botanists who, with Visiani, consider the common evergreen oak
(_Quercus Ilex_), and the cork oak (_Quercus suber_), to be forms of
the same plant. In general appearance, the oak here quite resembled
_Q. suber_, and in the older trees the tendency to form a corky outer
bark was apparent; but the anthers all showed traces of the sharp
points which are supposed to distinguish those of the common species.
At a point where a slender rivulet from the dry flanks of the hills
on our left enters the valley, we passed close to a small village,
with a belt of cultivation surrounding it, and soon after began to
descend steeply to the bed of the torrent, no longer so distant
from us as it had been in the lower part of the valley. Here we
found several fine plants not before seen, and then, somewhat to
our surprise, began to ascend, by a narrow and difficult path,
the steep rocky slope above the left bank of the torrent. Our
object was to pass the night at the uppermost end of the valley,
as near as possible to the foot of Djebel Tezah, and the sheik had
undertaken to conduct us to the highest village. We were now informed
that this stands on the west side, and some 600 or 700 feet above
the level of the torrent. This was evidently inconvenient, as our
route on the following day must clearly keep to the eastern bank;
but there seemed to be no help for it, and, as the rocks on this
side were different in appearance, we perceived a fair prospect of
adding some novelties to our collections.
About 2 P.M. we reached Iminteli, the poor village which served
as our head-quarters for the next two days. The weather being now
settled, our observations for altitude above the sea give nearly
the same results when compared with Mogador or with Amsmiz, and
that adopted was 4,418 feet (1,346·5 m.). The house of a Jew had
been cleared out for our reception. It was of rather more solid
construction than that in which we lodged at Arround, in the Aït
Mesan valley, but similar in plan. It appeared to be tolerably
clean, though on closer scrutiny a few bugs were detected, but in
far less numbers than we have seen in Sicily and some other places in
Europe. In pursuance of the sheik’s order, the Shelluh inhabitants
of this place kept carefully aloof from all communication with us;
but there were several Jew families who were clearly well disposed
towards the Christian strangers. When we sallied forth, soon after
our arrival, to examine the vegetation of the rocky slopes above the
village, one of these Jews volunteered to accompany us. Conversation
either in Hebrew or Shelluh being unfortunately out of the question,
our intercourse was necessarily of the most limited character; but
we could not fail to be struck with the man’s air of intelligence
and friendliness.
The character of the rocks throughout this valley is altogether
different from that of the more lofty range which we had previously
visited. The red sandstones, there so prevalent, are here absent,
and the strata are, without exception, schistose, though seemingly
varying much in mineral composition. In some places, and especially
on the ridge above Amsmiz, mica is present to an appreciable extent;
in others, and notably in the mass of Djebel Tezah, the rock would
pass under the old designation of clayslate; while in this part of
the valley calcareous schists prevail. Intrusive dykes and bosses
of porphyry and other igneous rocks were seen in many places,
but not to such an extent as to affect much the general aspect
of the surface. The stratification appeared to be very irregular,
but in general the beds are inclined at a high angle to the horizon.
We were led by the difference in geological structure to anticipate
a considerable change in the flora, as compared with that with which
we had already made acquaintance; and this expectation was confirmed
by what we had seen during our morning’s ride, and still more by
our afternoon herborisation on the rocks and slopes above Iminteli.
We had already perceived that the vegetation of this part of
the Atlas is much less varied than that of Aït Mesan; and this
impression became stronger with subsequent experience. Something may
be due to the fact that we had there more time and opportunity for
close examination; but this could only slightly alter the general
result. This may be partly due to the more permeable character of
the rocks in the Amsmiz valley preventing moisture from resting on
the surface; and in part to the fact that, although nearer to the
Atlantic, the range here is less lofty, and the precipitation of
vapour, in the shape of rain or snow, is less frequent and abundant
during the summer months. The subject is more fully discussed in
Appendix E; but it will be seen by reference to our lists, that only
seventy-six species seen by us were confined to the Amsmiz valley,
that nearly twice as many were found common to both valleys, while
more than three times that number were seen in Aït Mesan, but not
in Amsmiz. If a similar comparison be made as to the endemic species
which, as far as we know, are peculiar to the flora of the Great
Atlas, the proportions are nearly identical. A further peculiarity
of the vegetation here, is the greater resemblance which it bears to
that of the mountains of Southern Spain than does that of the Aït
Mesan valley. Several plants not before seen by us were identical
with Spanish species; and of the undescribed forms here collected,
at least four have their nearest allies among the endemic plants
of the Peninsula. Two or three characteristic species of the
Algerian flora were also seen here for the first time; but these
will doubtless be found to extend through the intervening region
when this has become accessible to scientific travellers.
At two or three spots, during the afternoon, we had noticed fragments
of pine cones, which the more excited our curiosity, as up to this
we had not seen a true conifer in Marocco, and there was no reason
to expect the appearance in this region of any other species than
the Atlantic Cedar. When asked on the subject, the sheik declared
that they had been dropped by strangers who had come from a great
distance. The only explanation for a lie, apparently so objectless,
is to be found in the deep-rooted suspicion which the mountain
tribes feel as to all strangers, but which in the case of the sheik
was intensified by religious bigotry. It was satisfactory to find
a few trees about the highest point which we reached—700 or 800
feet above the village—and to ascertain that the cones belonged
to the _Pinus halepensis_. It is remarkable that, when questioned,
our Jew guide gave for the tree the name _Tæda_. There is much
doubt as to the species which Pliny knew by the name _Pinus Tæda_,
but it is pretty clear that the Romans applied the name _tæda_ to
various species of pine used for torches; and to this day, in the
Italian Tyrol, where brands of _Pinus Mughus_ are commonly adopted
for that purpose, they go by the name of _tea_. The preservation
of the exact Latin term in this remote region, along with that of
the _furbiune_, already mentioned, appears worthy of note.
Well content with our collections, we returned before sunset, but
our good-humour was soon troubled by the recalcitrant sheik, who
seemed resolved to frustrate the main object of our expedition. When
our interpreter was charged to arrange with him for our departure
early next morning, he returned an answer to the effect that we
could go with safety no farther than the village of Iminteli; that
the great mountain was frequented by the Sous people, and could
not safely be approached by us; and this was wound up by a flat
refusal to let us proceed any farther. When it was found that he
stuck doggedly to this resolution, Hooker judiciously resolved to
assume a more resolute tone. ‘Tell him,’ he said to Abraham,
‘that the Sultan has issued his order that we should go to the
snow—El Graoui has ordered that we shall go the snow—the Kaïd
of Amsmiz has ordered that we shall go to the snow—if he refuses
to carry out their orders, we shall return to Amsmiz, and send a
courier to the Viceroy and to El Graoui, and we shall see what will
be the consequence.’ After some delay, the answer came, that if
we went to the mountain, it would be necessary to take an escort
of fifty armed men. ‘Tell him,’ was the reply, ‘that he may
take as many men as he likes—five men, or fifty men, or none at
all—we do not care as to that; but the Sultan’s command must
be executed!’ The sheik sullenly gave way, and promised that all
should be ready for the next morning. After achieving this victory,
we proceeded to dust the floor profusely with insect powder, and
to spread our mattresses: our insect enemies either held aloof,
or performed their operations so deftly that we were unconscious
of their assaults, and slept till the first gleam of dawn showed
in the eastern sky.
[Illustration:_J. D. H. delt._
DJEBEL TEZAH FROM IMINTELI]
When we sallied forth at 5 A.M., on the morning of May 22, the air
was cool, but a light mist hung between us and the mountains, the
usual precursor of a hot day. When our preparations for starting were
complete, the sheik was not to be seen; but presently a message came
to say that he had gone on ahead, and would await our arrival on the
banks of the torrent below the village. It seemed as if it involved
an unnecessary détour to return by the path which we had ascended
the day before, instead of aiming at a point higher up the valley;
but a native who was left to act as guide, insisted on keeping to
the steep rocky path with which we were already acquainted. At the
appointed place, by the bank of the torrent, we found the sheik,
with four or five ragged fellows, of whom but two were armed with
long guns. Anticipating any remark as to this sorry substitute for
the promised escort of fifty armed men, the sheik announced that
more men would join the party farther on. As we firmly disbelieved
the stories of danger from the terrible men of Sous, who are the
bugbears of the population on the northern side of the mountains,
we never cared to call attention to the fact that the promised
reinforcements did not make their appearance.
In the upper part of the valley, the trench which the torrent has cut
for itself is less deeply excavated than through its lower course,
and leaves space for a path, and a few straggling olive and walnut
trees; and in some spots for small patches of cultivation. For
about six miles we kept to the torrent bank, our horses sometimes
preferring its stony bed, till we reached the junction of the two
streams that feed the Amsmiz torrent. Between them rises the peak
of Djebel Tezah, and here the ascent of the mountain begins. As the
slope was still very gentle, we rode on a short distance farther,
after hurriedly collecting some interesting plants, but soon came to
a halt at a clump of fine walnut trees, standing by our observations
at 5,604 feet (1,708 m.) above the sea. We had seen no village by
the way, but only a few men engaged in fashioning gunstocks from
walnut wood. It appeared, nevertheless, that there was a small
village near at hand, and this place would be the proper starting
point for travellers intending to make the ascent. There would be
no difficulty in conveying small tents hither from Amsmiz.
Much to our satisfaction, the sheik now withdrew, committing us to
the charge of an active, but unarmed young Shelluh, with strict
injunctions to lead as far as the snow, but not to allow us to
proceed farther. It is hard to say whether the sheik and his people
felt any real uneasiness as to the possibility of a casual encounter
with natives of the Sous valley; but it was pretty clear that they
had succeeded in frightening our attendants, as our Mogador men,
usually so active and attentive, soon dropped behind, and were not
again seen till our return in the afternoon. We took the most direct
course in the ascent, following a slight gully down which flowed a
mere trickling rivulet, fed by the snows on the upper slope of the
mountain, and pushed on rather fast with a view to get as high on
the mountain as possible before the sun reached the meridian.
Bearing in mind the great diversity in the vegetable population
which is seen in Southern Spain (the high mountain region nearest
to the Great Atlas), where neighbouring peaks of different mineral
structure exhibit numerous quite distinct species, and very few
identical features, and having found the flora of the lower valley
to a great extent different from that of Aït Mesan, we confidently
reckoned on obtaining still greater evidence of distinctness in
that of the upper region. It was therefore with some surprise that,
as we continued the ascent, we met, one after another, many of the
peculiar species that we had first seen in the ascent from Arround
to the Tagherot Pass, and comparatively few not already familiar
to us. For once, however, it must be owned that during part of this
day, our emotions as botanists yielded to the interest that we felt
in the near prospect of a peep into _terra incognita_.
If but little had been hitherto known of the northern slopes of the
Great Atlas from the reports of the few travellers who had viewed
the range from the low country, or attained its outer slopes,
the southern side of the main chain remained a sealed book to
geographers, whose reliance on the vague reports of native informants
has led them, like the chartographers of the middle ages, to fill up
the blank space on their maps by representations utterly discordant
and contradictory. Ever since we had been in South Marocco, we had
heard of the Sous valley, as the proper home of everything strange
and marvellous to be found in the empire. It is there, our informants
assured us, that lions and other savage beasts roam at leisure,
there pythons twenty or even thirty feet long lie in wait for the
traveller, mines of the precious metals abound in Sous, and in Sous
the soil is so fertile that all the products of nature are obtained
without labour. But of the physical features of the country we could
learn nothing. Whether it were enclosed on the southern side by a
second lofty range, or Anti-Atlas, parallel to that we already knew,
or merely by secondary branches diverging from the main chain, and
from how far eastward the sources of the Sous might flow, were all
matters quite unknown to us. One European, indeed, had traversed
some part of the valley, and should have been able to throw some
little light on these obscure points; but unfortunately the few
lines in which Gerhard Rohlfs recounts his adventurous journey to
Tarudant, and thence eastward to the northern skirts of the Sahara,
give scarcely any information. He speaks of high mountains lying
south of the Sous valley, but says nothing to show what relation
these bear to the main chain. It appears from his account, that no
considerable ascent is necessary in order to pass from the southern
branch of the Sous to the streams that flow southward towards the
Great Desert; but whether the Great Atlas and the Anti-Atlas are
throughout their length separated by a broad trough, in the same
way as Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon, or Anti-Atlas be a diverging range
over which Rohlfs made his way by a deep pass or depression, it is
impossible to infer from his narrative.
By the time we reached the lower skirts of a long snow slope that
stretched upwards towards the summit of the mountain, the sun,
which had now ascended nearly to the zenith, beat down upon us with
intense rays, that drove two of the party to seek some temporary
shelter. The Shelluh guide probably considered that he had done
his day’s work; and, finding a narrow rim of shadow under an
overhanging rock, lay down, with his head screened from the blazing
heat. Ball, who was suffering from a violent head-ache, also found
a spot that gave partial shade. Hooker took advantage of the halt
to push on at a steady pace that soon carried him beyond the reach
of interference from the guide. When Ball felt able to resume the
ascent, the guide sprung to his feet, and for the first time became
aware that one of the party was already too far ahead to be easily
overtaken. He proceeded by a series of unearthly yells and frantic
gesticulations, to attempt to attract Hooker’s attention, and
urge his return. When these demonstrations were found to be useless,
and he perceived that Ball was also about to follow in the ascent,
he commenced a fresh series of exclamations and pantomimic gestures,
of which the burden seemed to be that if we went to the top, we
were certain to be shot; but the same argument that was used with
effect on the Tagherot Pass—the gift of a silver coin—was so far
successful that no attempt was made to arrest Ball’s progress, and,
after ascending a few hundred feet higher, the unwilling guide gave
up the attempt, and rested comfortably until he had an opportunity
of rejoining Hooker in his descent.
It was perhaps fortunate for our object of reaching the summit
of the mountain as early as possible, that the slope by which we
ascended is extremely dry and barren. A few species, already seen
on the Tagherot Pass, were gathered near the snow, but the upper
ridges showed only a few perennial species in flower, of which
the most conspicuous was a variety of _Alyssum montanum_. Most of
the others were stunted bushes, one of them being a dwarf form of
the common gooseberry, with stems about a foot long, lying flat on
the surface of the rocky soil. Throughout the ascent the rock was
of schistose structure, seemingly argillaceous, but in some places
containing a notable proportion of lime, and here and there showing
traces of mica. Intrusive dykes and bosses of reddish porphyry
appear in places, but do not play a conspicuous part in the aspect
of the mountain.
Hooker reached the summit about 2 P.M., and was rejoined by Ball
nearly half an hour later. Excepting some light fleecy cumuli
floating over the low country to the north, at a lower level than
the eye, the sky was cloudless; but in some directions a thin haze
obscured the details of the vast panorama. Our first glance was
inevitably directed towards the unknown region to the south, and
there, at a distance of fifty or sixty miles, rose the range of
Anti-Atlas, showing a wavy outline, with rounded summits, and no
apparent deep depression, rising, as we estimated, to a height of
from 9,000 to 10,000 feet above the sea. The highest portion within
our range of view, and the only part with a somewhat rugged outline,
bore a few degrees west of due south, and corresponded in position
with the Djebel Aoulouse of the French map. A somewhat darker shade
traceable at some places on the flanks of this dimly seen range,
possibly indicated the existence of forests, or at least of shrubs
covering the slopes.
When the first impulse of curiosity was partially satisfied, we began
to take more careful note of our position, and to study in detail a
view which had been so long denied to us. The first fact that struck
us, was that the peak on which we stood lies a considerable way north
of the watershed. The axis of the main chain, which here subsides
into undulating masses from 2,000 to 3,000 feet lower than Djebel
Tezah, lay between us and the central portion of the Sous valley,
and, even if the prevailing haze over the lower districts had not
veiled the details, would probably have cut off the course of the
stream and the rich tracts that are said to fringe its banks. The
higher strata of the atmosphere, above the level of about 7,000
feet, were, however, delightfully clear towards the east and west,
and every feature of whatever portion of the main chain lay within
our range was easily traced even at distances of thirty or forty
miles. An extraordinary change had occurred during the three days
since we had viewed the chain from Sektana, covered in deep snow
down to the level of about 7,000 feet, and showing only a few crests
of precipitous rock here and there protruding. The white mantle had
now completely disappeared, and only long streaks of snow filling
the depressions of the surface now seamed the flanks of the higher
mountains, leaving the summit ridges everywhere bare. During the
ascent of the northern face of the mountain, we had kept close to
one of these long and comparatively narrow snowslopes that extended
through a vertical zone of over 2,000 feet, with a breadth of some
300 to 400 feet, and we now saw a still longer and wider strip of the
same character, filling a shallow trough below us, on the east face
of the peak. Near to the summit, and on the ridges leading to it,
not a trace of snow was to be seen, even in the crevices of the
rocks, where it would find partial shelter from the sun.
We now proceeded to survey the field of view, in order, if possible,
to fix the positions of any conspicuous summits. Looking due
west, nothing approaching our level lay between us and the dim
horizon. A succession of projecting spurs of the Atlas, dividing
as many successive valleys, subsided into the plain; the most
prominent, and that extending farthest from the main chain, being
the mountain above Seksaoua. Turning the eye a little to the left,
about west by south, we saw crowded together many of the higher
summits of the western portion of the main range, which was here
seen foreshortened, so that it was impossible to judge of their
true relative position. The highest of these, seamed with snow,
we judged to be about twenty-five miles distant, and higher than
Djebel Tezah by 600 or 800 feet. In nearly the same direction,
but only about ten miles distant, was a rugged projecting peak,
rising some 300 feet above our level, and very many more of somewhat
lower elevation were discernible in the space between us and the
more distant points. Between SW. and SSE., the range of Anti-Atlas,
rising behind the broad Sous valley, bounded the horizon.
At our feet, and cutting off from view the course of the river
Sous, the mountain mass that here forms the axis of the main chain
presented the appearance of a troubled sea of a light ferruginous
colour, declining gradually in elevation from W. to E. At a
distance of about eight miles ESE. of Djebel Tezah it sinks to an
estimated height of little over 7,000 feet, at the head of the main
branch of the Oued Nfys, and offers the only apparently easy pass
over the main chain which we had yet seen.[2] The rocky sunburnt
flanks of the mountains were dotted with trees of dark foliage,
doubtless some form of the evergreen oak, up to a height of about
8,000 feet above the sea, for the most part solitary, sometimes
in clumps, but nowhere forming a continuous forest. The numerous
feeders of the Oued Nfys had cut deep ravines in the flanks of the
mountains, and were lost to sight, except where gleams of silver
light shot upwards from the deeper valleys amid the walnut trees
that fringed their banks. Numerous hamlets were seen, some perched
upon projecting ridges, some lying in hollows and girdled with a
belt of emerald-green crops.
It was impossible not to speculate on the condition of these
primitive mountaineers, who have since the dawn of history preserved
their independence. Leo Africanus, speaking of the very district
now overlooked by us, which he calls Guzula, says that the people
were in his day molested by the predatory Arabs and by ‘the lord
of Marocco;’ but they successfully resisted all encroachments,
and no attempt is now made to assert the Sultan’s authority among
them, or to enforce tribute. Something they have doubtless gained in
material, and still more in moral, welfare by stubborn resistance to
alien rule; but the prosperity that is sometimes attained by tribes
subject to the semi-feudal rule of chiefs, and among whom intestine
feuds are rooted in immemorial tradition, is usually short-lived.
Our hope of getting further knowledge as to the eastern extremity
of the Sous valley, and the orographic relations between the Atlas
and Anti-Atlas ranges was not to be satisfied. Djebel Tezah, as
we found, stands some way north of the axis of the chain, while
the great mass that rose over against us between ENE. and ESE.,
extending to the head of the Aït Mesan valley, sends out massive
buttresses to the south, and by these our view of Anti-Atlas was
cut off to the SE. On one of these western projecting buttresses,
we could distinguish a large village belonging to the district of
Tifinout, and standing at an elevation of nearly 7,000 feet. Turning
our eyes to the north of true east, many of the higher summits of the
[Illustration]
chain were seen rising above the intervening ranges, the most distant
probably belonging to the Glaoui group, east of Tasseremout. Once
more we came to the conclusion, that throughout the portion of
the Great Atlas chain visible from the city of Marocco, between
the easternmost feeders of the Oued Tensift and those of the Oued
Nfys, there are no prominent peaks notably surpassing the average
level. Many of them must surpass the limit of 13,000 feet above the
sea, but it is not likely that any one attains the level of 13,500
feet. The last object that attracted our attention in the panorama,
in a direction about east by north, was an isolated mass, forming
a bold promontory on the northern side of the chain, of which a
rough outline is here given.
When the engrossing interest of the distant view had so far subsided
as to let us pay attention to nearer objects, we were struck by
the unexpected appearance of considerable remains of dwellings on a
platform of level ground, only a few feet below the actual summit of
the mountain. About a dozen rude stone dwellings, all in a ruinous
condition, with chambers sunk a couple of feet below the level of
the ground, and the roofs fallen in, had at some former period been
here erected; but we saw no traces of recent occupation. It seemed
most probable that they were intended as shelter for herdsmen,
who had driven their flocks in summer to this lofty station.
As we lingered on the topmost point of the mountain, the intense
silence of the scene was broken by the distant scream of a large
grey eagle that soared over our heads, and then sailed away southward
over the Sous valley, making the deep stillness still more sensible
than before.
The interval allowed for musing was not long; there was still
much to be done, and we started to our feet to make ready for the
descent. The observations for altitude had still to be recorded,
and the usual difficulty of ascertaining the temperature of the air
was here experienced. With a hot sun falling on an exposed rocky
ridge, it is impossible to isolate the instrument from the effects of
radiation. The result is usually to register too high a temperature;
but the effect of placing the thermometer in a cleft where the rock
is much below the temperature of the air leads to error in the
opposite direction. The temperature here adopted was 60° Fahr.,
and the result of a comparison with Mogador gives a height a few
feet above 11,000 feet, while the comparison with Iminteli falls a
little below that level, the mean adopted being exactly 10,992 feet
(3,350·1 m.)
After bottling a few beetles that were brought to light by turning
over some flat stones, we gave a last glance at the ridge of
Anti-Atlas, and at a quarter-past three turned to the descent. It
was clearly desirable to take a different line from the straight
course followed in the ascent, and we speedily agreed on the plan of
action most likely to add to the botanical results of the ascent,
which hitherto had fallen somewhat short of our expectations. The
round-backed ridge sloping westward from the summit throws out a
massive spur, projecting nearly at right angles or somewhat E. of N.,
so as to enclose a recess in the mountain into which a large part of
the drainage of the northern slope is collected; there was reason,
therefore, to count on finding there a more varied vegetation than
on the bare slopes enclosing it. On the projecting spur above it,
we were struck by the appearance of trees, evidently not coniferous,
scattered at intervals along the slopes, while the greener tint of
the surface gave some promise to the botanist. It was, therefore,
desirable that this ridge should not escape examination. A rapid
descent soon brought us to a point overlooking the hollow recess
of the mountain where we were rejoined by our Shelluh guide, who
had now assumed a crest-fallen air, and we at once determined
to separate, Hooker with the guide descending into the hollow,
Ball making a circuit by the ridge to the left. The time at our
disposal being so short, it was impossible to examine the ground
carefully, and many species were doubtless overlooked, but we
were both rewarded by finding several plants not seen elsewhere
during our journey. Among others Hooker secured a dwarf, very spiny
barberry, with blueish-black berries, seemingly not different from
the Spanish variety of _Berberis cretica_; and lower down, near the
base of the mountain, a fine white-flowered columbine, fully four
feet high, probably a variety of the common _Aquilegia vulgaris_,
widely spread throughout the mountain regions of Europe and Asia,
but not, as we believe, before found in the African continent. Ball,
who reached the rendezvous half an hour after Hooker, brought down
with him a curious little succulent plant, forming a new species
of the genus _Monanthes_, hitherto known only in the islands of the
Canary and Cape de Verde groups, along with three species of the lily
tribe, all of them found in Southern Europe, but not before seen in
Marocco. The tree was found to be the belloot oak (_Quercus Ballota_
of Desfontaines), a variety of the evergreen oak, which is spread
through North Africa and Spain, where the sweet acorns are commonly
roasted and eaten, as chestnuts are elsewhere. Many of the trees
are of great age and have thick trunks, and weather-beaten stunted
branches, and are apparently the remains of extensive forests that
once clothed the flanks of this part of the Atlas up to a height
of about 8,500 feet above the sea.
Hooker found the sheik in a state of thorough exasperation at our
success in defeating his orders, probably aggravated by the tedium
of waiting for our return. He discharged volleys of fierce abuse at
the guide who had failed to keep us within the prescribed limits,
but was not openly disrespectful in his manner towards the Christian
_hakim_ who had come to his country under the immediate shadow of
imperial protection. Foreseeing future trouble in returning through
the valley after dark, he was evidently much annoyed at the necessity
for awaiting Ball’s arrival. To calm his impatience, Hooker lent
him a field telescope, and the novel experience so much amused him
that his ill-humour appeared to vanish for the time. Uncivilised men
are like children, rarely remaining long under the same impression;
and even when seemingly quite possessed by some strong feeling,
are led away from it by the veriest trifle.
As required by the inevitable rule of hospitality, a _mona_ was
offered by the people of the adjoining hamlet in the shape of a dish
of _keskossou_, barely tasted by us, but speedily despatched by our
followers, and at 6.15 P.M. we started on horseback to return to
our night-quarters at Iminteli. The sun set before 7, and a brief
interval of twilight soon gave place to a dark, though star-lit,
night. In the open there was no difficulty in following the track
along the torrent; but at one place, in riding through a walnut
grove, we were reminded of our night-adventure in the Aït Mesan
valley. The thicker branches of the walnut do not, however, lie low,
as do those of the olive, nor are they beset with the stiff jagged
leafless branchlets that made the latter so dangerous in the dark.
The grove was traversed without trouble; but another unlooked-for
experience was in store for us. We had complained in the morning of
what seemed a roundabout way taken in descending from Iminteli to
the bottom of the valley; and perhaps the sheik now took a malicious
pleasure in showing us the advantages of a short cut. Leading the
way, he rode across the torrent, which barely reached the horse’s
knees, and began to ascend the slope above the left bank. Before
long he struck into the bed of a brawling streamlet that came
tumbling over loose boulders down the declivity. As we advanced,
the way became steeper, and shut in on either side by tall bushes
and straggling climbers, all, as it seemed, beset with hooks
and spines. There was nothing for it but to rely on our riding
animals to carry us through as best they could, and wonderfully
they demeaned themselves. Though patches of sky showed overhead,
to our eyes the ground below was absolutely invisible; the boulders
were evidently very large and slippery, and it was only by the most
desperate struggles that the poor beasts succeeded in clambering
up the slope, pausing frequently, with muscles quivering all over
from the violence of their renewed struggles. The only thing for
the riders to do was to hold on at all hazards, and keep their
heads bent low, so as to save their faces from the spiny branches,
that made havoc of their nether garments.
The time seemed very long before we finally emerged on the shelf of
more level ground which lies along this side of the valley, and soon
after reached our quarters at Iminteli, at about half-past eight. As
we knew that we should have time on the following morning, and the
day’s work had been rather fatiguing, we yielded to the claims
of nature, let our collections rest in their boxes and portfolios
for the night, and soon after supper lay down to sleep.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The final letter is nearly or quite mute, and the name
would by an ordinary Englishman be written Amsmee.]
[Footnote 2: This is apparently the pass spoken of by Leo Africanus
as leading from near Imizmizi (Amsmiz?) to the region of Guzula (the
northern branch of the Sous valley). He says it is called Burris,
that word meaning downy, because snow frequently falls there.—See
_Ramusio_, vol. i. p. 17, B.]
CHAPTER XI.
Return to Amsmiz — Arround villagers in trouble — Pains and
pleasures of a botanist — Ride across the plain — Mzouda
— Experiences of a Governor in Marocco — Hospitable chief of
Keira — A village in excitement — Arrival at Seksaoua — Fresh
difficulties as to our route — A faithful black soldier — Rock
vegetation at Seksaoua — Ascent of a neighbouring mountain —
View of the Great Atlas — Absence of perpetual snow — Return
of our envoy from Mtouga — Pass leading to Tarudant — Native
names for the mountains — Milhaïn — Botanising in the rocks.
The morning hours of May 23 were devoted to the necessary work at
our collections of the preceding day; but before our departure we
once more took a short ramble through the ground surrounding the
village. With a single exception, all the plants seen were species
common to the Spanish peninsula, two or three being characteristic of
Central Spain. Apart from the style of building and the dress of the
inhabitants, a stranger transported to the spot might easily suppose
himself somewhere in Southern Europe, though closer examination
would suggest differences to the naturalist. At noon we started
on the way to Amsmiz, halting at the torrent in the bottom of the
valley to secure specimens of two very fine and undescribed plants,
both very troublesome to the collectors. One was a spiny _Genista_,
with very numerous, stiff, intricate branches; the other a fine
thistle, five or six feet high, whose long woolly leaves were beset
with sharp, slender, golden spines, fully an inch in length.
Without much further delay, we retraced the track that we had
followed on the morning of the 21st. We were once more struck by the
remarkable coolness of the climate of this region as compared with
somewhat similar positions in higher latitudes on the north and east
sides of the Mediterranean. Although the sun at noon now approached
within less than 15 degrees of the zenith, the temperature in the
shade was pleasantly cool, scarcely rising above 70° F. At the
same season, and at a greater height, on the Lebanon we have seen
the thermometer stand above 80° in the shade by day, and scarcely
fall to 70° at night. This is mainly due to the cool winds that
prevail along the coast, and extend some way inland, though not
much felt in summer in the city of Marocco. As we rode along the
eastern flank of the valley, and down the slopes above Amsmiz, we
were pleasantly fanned by a NW. breeze that often lasts throughout
the day, but subsides at night.
On the brow of the declivity overlooking Amsmiz, we met a messenger
from Arround, our stopping-place at the head of the Aït Mesan
valley, come to implore our protection for the unfortunate
inhabitants, whose appeal to us had only brought them into fresh
trouble. The story had of course been reported to the Vice-Governor
(El Graoui’s deputy) with the circumstance of the sacrifice of the
sheep. He had resented this attempt to escape from his authority,
had had some of the suppliants severely beaten, and sent two more
men of the village to prison. It seemed very doubtful whether any
interference on our part might not merely aggravate the condition
of these unfortunate people. We promised, however, to do what we
could for them; and before we left Mogador it was reported, whether
truly or falsely, that we had been successful in our intercession.
On returning to our camp at Amsmiz we found work in abundance
ready to hand. Our precious collections from the Aït Mesan
valley, including, as they did, the most interesting results of
our expedition, had been lying for three days untouched; and it was
necessary to go through them all again, putting into separate parcels
those that were dry and those still requiring pressure between dry
paper. With the exception of half an hour given to another interview
with the friendly Kaïd of Amsmiz, we were thus occupied until long
after midnight. Although our store of drying-paper was large, the
demand often exceeded the supply, and many a friendly contest arose
as to respective rights of property in parcels of soiled paper, here
priceless, which elsewhere would have seemed of no value. Those who
have had experience in this line know that the labour of a botanical
collector is not light, and in truth it would be almost intolerable
if it were not for its compensating pleasures. It often happened
that the solitary candle was in use throughout the entire night,
Ball working till two o’clock or later, when Hooker would rise,
more or less refreshed, and keep up work till daylight.
But in the pursuits of a naturalist there are abundant sources
of satisfaction not suspected by the uninitiated. These are not
merely derived from the objects themselves, suggesting as they
often do interesting trains of thought and speculation; there are
further springs of keen enjoyment in the countless impressions with
which they are linked by the subtle influence of association. Much
of the pleasure that an artist, however unskilled, derives from
travel, arises from the power of each sketch to bring back again
to the mind the original scene of which it is but the imperfect
transcript. If he be active and industrious, he may preserve a
dozen such keys to the impressions of each day’s journey. But
to the botanist almost every specimen is indissolubly linked in
the memory with the spot where it was collected; and as he goes
through the produce of his day’s work, every minute detail is
vividly presented to the mind, along with the wider background
that lay behind the original picture. The wonder and awe that
dwell around the mountain fastnesses, the consolation of the
forest glade, the indefinable grandeur of the desert plain, nay,
even the bleak solitariness of northern moorland and morass—these
dominant impressions suggested by the aspects of nature are varied
and enriched for the naturalist by the myriad phases of beauty
that are disclosed to the eye of the observer. The glory of colour
in the gentian and saxifrage and golden _Alyssum_, and the other
bright creatures that haunt the mountain tops; the tender grace
of the delicate ferns that dwell in the rocky clefts; the teeming
life of the warm woodland; the strange beauty of the unaccustomed
forms that spring up in the desert solitudes; the purple glow of the
heath relieving the sombreness of the leaden sky, and the delicate
structures of the _Drosera_ and _Menyanthes_, and bog-asphodel,
and many another inhabitant of our northern bogs—these and
countless other images are instantaneously revived by contact with
the specimen that grew beside them. Strangest of all is, perhaps,
the enduring nature of this connection. Often does it happen, as
many a botanist can testify, that after a lapse of a quarter, nay,
even half, a century, the sight of a specimen will bring back the
picture, seemingly effaced long ago, of its original home.
We were on foot again at 5.30 A.M., May 24, and the order for
departure went forth. But, as usual, there were unexpected causes
for delay. Many sick came to invoke Hooker’s medical skill,
some trifling presents were to be distributed, and finally
word was brought that the Kaïd meant to accompany us for some
distance on our day’s journey, and it was necessary to await his
appearance. Among the articles provided for presents we had included
scissors and needles; but such things, especially the needles, were
everywhere disregarded by the natives, whether Moor or Shelluh;
and it appeared that the art of sewing, as well as every other
occupation requiring the slightest manual dexterity, is—at least
in country places—exclusively practised by the Jews; to them,
accordingly, such gifts were very welcome. In the larger towns
there are, of course, many handicrafts, and notably the making of
slippers and boots, practised by the Moors; but such trades are for
the most part hereditary in certain families, and the ordinary Moor
affects to despise all occupations of the kind.
At half-past eight the Kaïd appeared, mounted on a strong
serviceable horse; and, everything being ready, we rode down
the steep bank above which stands the town of Amsmiz, and, after
following the torrent for a short distance, reascended to about
the same level above the left bank. We now found ourselves on the
verge of a wide open plain, sloping gently from south to north,
and our course to Mzouda—the next stage in our journey—lay a
little north of due west, while the outer range of the mountains
trended away to S.W. We had been led to suppose that Mzouda lay,
like Amsmiz, at the foot of the Great Atlas, and might therefore
serve as starting-point for another excursion into its recesses;
but it was now clear that it must stand far out in the plain,
many miles from the nearest range of hills. We were somewhat
comforted, however, by the positive assurance that Seksaoua, the
next stopping-place beyond Mzouda, stands close to the mountains at
the opening of a considerable valley, and was therefore a promising
spot for our purposes.
The difficulty of getting correct information in such a country as
this, as daily experience proved to us, is one of the most serious
difficulties of the traveller, and depends quite as much on the
incapacity of the natives as on the habitual suspicion with which
all strangers are regarded. One day when Kaïd el Hasbi appeared
to be in unusual good-humour we were endeavouring to obtain from
him information as to some place on our route, and the interpreter
being told to ask if he could make the matter clearer by reference
to the cardinal points, he answered in a tone of contempt, ‘Does
he take me for the captain of a steamer?’
After riding with us for two or three miles the Kaïd of Amsmiz
bade us a friendly farewell; and we continued in our course across
the plain, with occasional halts, in order more closely to examine
the vegetation, which was here less varied and interesting than
usual. Most of the surface was under grain crops—chiefly wheat
and barley—now ripe, and in great part cut and carried away. In
the drier waste tracts we once more came upon the characteristic
vegetation of the plains, _Acacia_, _Zizyphus Lotus_, _Rhus
pentaphylla_, and _Withania frutescens_ being the prevailing
shrubs. Of herbaceous plants _Elæoselinum meoides_, and other
large _Umbelliferæ_, with _Compositæ_ of the thistle tribe,
were most conspicuous.
In Beaudouin’s map the chief branch of the Oued Nfys is shown as
flowing parallel to the Atlas range from the south-west of Amsmiz,
and receiving as tributaries the Amsmiz torrent and the broad stream
that we had crossed near Gurgouri. On this day we satisfied ourselves
that this representation is erroneous. The unanimous statements of
the natives, confirmed by our own observations, proved that all the
waters flowing northward from the mountains between Amsmiz and the
borders of Mtouga are united in the stream that we had traversed
at Sheshaoua on its way to the main river Tensift. The practice of
intercepting the streams from the Atlas, and carrying them across
the plain through irrigation channels below the surface, makes it
extremely difficult to unravel the hydrography of this region.
About noon we reached the boundary that separates the districts
of Amsmiz and Mzouda, and agreed to the suggestion of a mid-day
halt under trees near a large village, of which, as we learned,
many of the inhabitants are Jews. From early morning the clouds
had been gathering along the mountain range, and by this time had
quite covered the sky. The temperature was unusually low, not rising
above 62° F. in the shade, and our hard work during most of the
preceding night supplies the only excuse for the fact that, after
a light luncheon, we both fell fast asleep, until aroused by the
information that it was two o’clock, and high time to continue our
journey. The flora being somewhat monotonous, we did not, perhaps,
lose much by this unusual neglect of duty; but we remembered with
regret that we had not ascertained to what species the tamarisk
tree belonged under which we had taken our rest.
The boundary between Amsmiz and Mzouda is here formed by a torrent
bed, now nearly dry, called by our escort Asif el Mel. This stream,
as was agreed on all hands, joins those farther west that run by
Sheshaoua to the Oued Tensift. As we rode onward across the plain
several heavy showers passed over, which thoroughly drenched the
scantily clothed men of our party, without at all quenching their
habitual good-humour, but the soldiers were well provided with
woollen coverings that kept them tolerably dry. There was little
attempt at collecting-plants during the afternoon, as it requires
a strong inducement to make a horseman whose outer clothing is
thoroughly wet set foot to the ground. We found the village of
Mzouda rather different in appearance from those we had hitherto
seen. The houses—small cubical blocks built of clay dried in the
sun—were less solid than the rough stone dwellings of the Atlas
mountaineers, but much superior to the miserable huts of the Arab
tribes in the plain of Marocco; and instead of the unsightly piles
of thorny branches commonly used by the latter, these were enclosed
within massive hedges of _Opuntia_ whose dimensions showed that
they were of considerable age.
As usual Kaïd el Hasbi had ridden forward with one of the soldiers
to present the letter to the Governor, and to announce our arrival;
and when, about 6 P.M., we reached the _kasbah_, quite a mile
from the village, we received a message inviting us to take up our
quarters within the building. As the ground outside was already wet,
and the evening sky threatened more rain, we at once accepted the
offer, and were conducted to two small but clean-looking rooms in a
square tower that formed one of the angles of the building. Between
the care of the small collections made during the day, and writing up
our notes, and a frugal supper, the time was fully occupied until 10
P.M., when by previous arrangement we paid our visit to the Governor.
We found a spare-looking man of serious mien, quite devoid of the
coarse, overfed, sensual aspect common among the men in authority
in Marocco. The usual conversation as to the objects of our journey,
led to an assurance that the district under his jurisdiction did not
extend to the higher peaks of the Atlas, or, as it was expressed,
‘did not go to the snow.’ This may not improbably have been quite
true, but our experience of El Hasbi’s machinations made us now
very incredulous as to such statements. It was, however, obvious that
Mzouda was not a convenient centre for mountain excursions, and we
made no objection to the proposal that we should on the following day
proceed to Seksaoua, which stands close to the foot of the mountains.
When we came to know more of his history, we found no cause to
wonder at the grave and depressed demeanour of our host. He had
succeeded to the government of his native district in early life,
and had held it for many years when he was invited by the Sultan
to Fez. On his arrival he was thrown into a dungeon where he had
remained ten years, frequently subjected to torture, until so much of
the wealth he was supposed to have amassed during his administration
had been disgorged as satisfied the demands of the sovereign or some
ruling favourite; and then, being released, he was sent back again
to govern his district with the agreeable prospect of renewing the
same experience after some uncertain interval. If actual fact in
this country did not supply frequent proof, it would seem scarcely
credible that the attractions of power and comparative wealth should
induce men to face such a terrible, yet almost inevitable, future.
The sky had cleared during the night, but the morning of May 25 was
unpromising. At 8 A.M., shortly before we started, the thermometer
marked only 65° F., although our observations showed that in our
yesterday’s ride of rather more than 20 miles we had descended
fully 1,000 feet, the height of the _kasbah_ above the sea being
calculated at 2,367 feet. The night had not been altogether pleasant,
for, in spite of insect powder, the bugs had made a vigorous and
successful attack, and we should have preferred to start at an
earlier hour. But as usual Kaïd el Hasbi stood in the way. He was
quite determined not to let the unbelieving strangers put him to
the slightest inconvenience that could be avoided.
Before we started the Governor sent Hooker a present of 20 dollars,
which was of course immediately returned. The poor man doubtless
thought it well to lose no chance of propitiating any influence
that could possibly be of avail in the hour of future need. With
the same object, he took the opportunity of sending through Abraham
a dog to Mr. Carstensen at Mogador, and doubtless made presents to
the officers of our escort.
After leaving the _kasbah_ we rode through a narrow belt of tilled
land, and soon reached the verge of a tract of open country remaining
in a state of nature, with but few and scattered traces of population
or cultivation. In some parts the soil was stony, and the presence of
_Arthrocnemum_ and other Salsolaceous bushes indicated the presence
of soluble salts, but in others the absence of cultivation was
probably due only to the want of irrigation. There can be little
doubt that by a more skilful distribution of the drainage from
the northern slopes of the Great Atlas, the area of land producing
human food might be largely increased.
Our course lay between WSW. and SW., and we observed as we advanced
that in that direction the outer ranges of hills did not rise so
nearly parallel to the axis of the main chain as they do in the
districts lying between Tasseremout and Amsmiz. A very considerable
mass, extending northward as a promontory from the main range,
became gradually more conspicuous as we advanced towards it, while
a minor mass lying much nearer to us was seen on our left. About
noon we approached the latter range in which the stratification
appeared very irregular with a prevailing southward dip, and the
strike NE. to SW. At its western extremity this range showed a line
of steep cliffs, reminding us of those near Tasseremout, with the
difference that the strata were here crumpled or contorted in a
remarkably uniform manner, the same curvature of the folds being
repeated nine or ten times. The compressing force must here have
operated nearly in the direction of the axis of the main chain,
and in a distance of some two miles the beds whose exposed edges
we viewed must have originally covered a space of nearly twice
that length.
As often happens when the air is nearly saturated with moisture,
the horizon was to-day remarkably clear, and we made out the
position of the city of Marocco, more than 40 miles distant, and
bearing nearly due NE. About due north, and not quite so distant,
rose the hills near Sheshaoua, and about midway between them a
remarkable conical hill seen from near Misra ben Kara.
Before 2 P.M. we approached a large _kasbah_ at a place called
Douerani. When we afterwards learned that this belonged to the
same chief who hospitably received M. Balansa, and assisted him in
exploring the neighbourhood until orders from Marocco cut his stay
short, we had some doubt whether this was not the place described
by him as Keira. An examination of his map and the account of his
expedition leads us, however, to the conclusion that Keira must be
the name of another habitation belonging to the same chief, lying
a few miles farther north, and that the mountain called Djebel Aït
Ougurt, ascended by M. Balansa, must be some eminence in the range
near at hand which we had just before been scrutinising. We now
perceived that there is a considerable valley or depression lying
between this outer range and the main mass of the Atlas, which is,
indeed, indicated in M. Balansa’s sketch map.
Before long we received a courteous message inviting us to stop at
the _kasbah_; but as it seemed clear that Seksaoua promised more easy
access to the higher mountains, we had no hesitation in adhering to
the plan already fixed, and declining the proffered hospitality. It
was not without regret that we adhered to our resolution, when the
chief came out with a numerous suite to visit us at our halting-place
close to the _kasbah_. The friendly air of the worthy old man,
which evidently made a deep impression on M. Balansa, was not
without effect upon us. Failing to induce us to stop on our way,
he sent an ample _mona_, including, besides tea and sugar, a parcel
of candles of French manufacture, the more acceptable as our supply
threatened to run short before we could reach Mogador.
Our halting-place was in a pleasant spot overlooking the broad bed of
the Oued Usbi, which appears to unite the torrent from a considerable
valley south of Seksaoua with several minor streams from the Atlas,
and to be the main affluent of the river of Sheshaoua. The weather
had improved, and the thermometer stood at about 70° F. in the
shade, our height above the sea being 2,671 feet (814·3 m.). Spiny
_Compositæ_ belonging to the genera _Scolymus_, _Echinops_,
_Cnicus_, and _Onopordum_, were the most conspicuous plants; but,
as no species not already gathered were seen here, we dispensed
ourselves from collecting and drying these troublesome inmates of
the herbarium.
It was near 4 P.M. when we started for Seksaoua, and, after crossing
the Oued Usbi, held on in a SW. direction nearly parallel to its
course. In little more than an hour we came to a large village,
which was the scene of unexpected commotion. As our cavalcade was
seen to approach, some natives ran on to announce the fact to the
villagers, and by the time we reached the first houses the whole
population turned out, and a scene ensued of which no description can
give an idea. The men who lined the way on either side shouted with
emulous vehemence and fury guttural sentences, illustrated by frantic
gesticulations, while the women and children kept up a deafening
accompaniment of shrieking, wailing, and howling, and the whole
formed a scene worthy of Pandemonium. It seemed sufficiently clear
that no hostile intentions against us were expressed, but amidst
the horrible din and confusion it was some minutes before we were
able to learn from Abraham the meaning of this wild excitement. It
appeared that, as constantly happens among the mountain people,
there was a feud between this and a neighbouring tribe; the village
had been attacked, or at least approached by the enemy, and one of
the villagers had been shot.
It was evident from the first that our brave escort felt extremely
uneasy; but when it became clear that the object of the people
was to invoke the protection of the soldiers of the Sultan against
further molestation, our two Kaïds for once thoroughly agreed on
a policy of strict neutrality, and in desiring to get as soon as
possible out of harm’s way. As for us, it may be feared that we
failed to maintain the gravity which, to the Oriental mind, befits
persons of distinction. Just when the confusion was at its worst,
and before we well understood what it portended, we happened to look
up to where on the top of the nearest house two or three storks, each
poised on one leg, were looking down on the frantic crowd. There was
something irresistibly ludicrous in the contrast between the air of
solemnity that characterises these birds and the insane excitement
of the human crowd below that set us off in a peal of laughter,
which we found it hard to tune down to decent seriousness.
The uppermost anxiety of our escort being to get away from any chance
of being mixed up in the local troubles, they proposed to push on as
far as possible towards the mouth of the valley, and we were all the
better pleased to find ourselves as near as possible to the mountains
in which we still hoped to effect another excursion. It was not,
however, practicable to go far. About two miles above the village a
rocky spur projects from the mass of the Atlas towards the plain,
and is backed by a mountain mass rising some 2,500 or 3,000 feet
above the valley. At the eastern base of this rocky promontory, in
a stony field planted with young olive trees, we pitched our tents
on very rough ground, where it was not easy to find a level spot
to sleep upon, but where we promised ourselves good botanising in
the immediate neighbourhood, even if unable to penetrate far into
the mountains.
Some unusual precautions were taken this evening to guard against
a night attack upon our camp, and the Kaïds assumed an air of
importance befitting men who felt that the time had at length
arrived for a display of their professional skill and prowess;
but, as we fully expected, the night passed without the slightest
molestation. A few musket shots discharged at a distance were heard,
exchanged between the hostile parties, or more probably fired _in
terrorem_ to show that the defenders were ready for action. As
we heard no more on the subject, it is probable that no further
disturbance ensued during our stay in the neighbourhood.
On the morning of May 26 our first anxiety was to ascertain what
might be our prospect of reaching from this point the head of
the valley, and making another ascent of the main range. We had
already heard rumours of disturbances among the native tribes in
the upper part of the valley, so that our expectations of success
did not run high; and when the sheik of the valley was forthcoming
we were not much surprised to hear him declare that an excursion
in that direction was utterly impracticable. We at once suspected
Kaïd el Hasbi of practising his usual machinations to defeat our
intentions; but with the difference that on this occasion there
was probably some foundation in fact for the tales that were told
us of conflicts between the neighbouring tribes, and of possible
danger for travellers. With an escort furnished by the orders of the
Sultan, and quite numerous enough to inspire respect among the rude
mountaineers, there would have been no real risk in proceeding along
the valley—or anywhere else in this part of the country—provided
we could have reckoned on our men; but in the face of their refusal,
there was no use in further pressing the point.
The next thing to be done was to make an arrangement for enabling
us to see something of the outer range of mountains immediately
surrounding our camp, and after some debating it was agreed that
on the following day we should ascend to the higher ridge of the
considerable mass already referred to as rising to the west of our
camp. Much nearer at hand, extending from behind our tents towards
the opening of the main valley, a steep rocky ridge, only from 400
to 500 feet in height, promised to show us what we had hitherto seen
little of, the rock vegetation of the lower region of the Atlas,
and we readily made up our minds to devote the remainder of this
day to its careful examination.
There was, however, another matter of a practical nature requiring
immediate attention. A glance at the map shows that in travelling
along the skirts of the Atlas from Seksaoua to Mogador our route
must lie through the district of Imintanout, and thence through
the adjoining provinces of Mtouga and Haha. We had informed
Mr. Carstensen of our intention to follow this line of route,
and fixed the probable date of our return to Mogador at the 2nd or
3rd of June. During the last two days we had heard vague reports of
disturbances going on in the provinces of Mtouga and Haha, and these
were now confirmed and aggravated by the sheik of Seksaoua. War was
actually raging, we were told, and the Governors had summoned all
their people to arms. As was to be expected, the men of our escort,
who clearly had no stomach for fighting of any kind, were becoming
very uneasy at the idea of coming near to the seat of operations,
and we apprehended that they might make an attempt to force us
to diverge from our intended route and travel northward across the
plain so as to rejoin the beaten road from Marocco to Mogador. Having
ascertained that the distance from Seksaoua to the _kasbah_ of the
Governor of Mtouga is no more than an easy day’s ride for men
travelling without luggage, Kaïd el Hadj of Mogador with two of
his men was despatched on a mission to Mtouga. He was to ascertain
the truth as to the stories that had reached us, and to require the
Governor, in case he considered extra protection necessary, to send
additional soldiers to escort us through his territory, thus, as we
hoped, committing us to keep to our intended route as far as Mtouga.
About this time we became a good deal interested in one of the
soldiers of our escort who had travelled with us throughout our
journey. He was a large man, with black skin, but with hair and
lips of less pronounced Negro type than we see among the natives of
western equatorial Africa. When leaving Mogador he had an ulcerous
sore on one hand, which was much swollen and almost useless. The
sore, under Hooker’s treatment, was quite healed, and he was
genuinely grateful for the benefit. Alone among the soldiers of
our escort he did what he could to forward our desire to explore
the mountain valleys; and of late, on more than one occasion, he
had given useful information that helped us to defeat the petty
intrigues of Kaïd el Hasbi. By our direction Abraham made some
inquiry as to his previous history, and he quite readily told
his story. He belonged, as it appeared, to one of the tribes that
inhabit the skirts of the Great Desert on the south side of the
Great Atlas. They led a predatory life, gaining an uncertain living
by robbing travellers, and killing those who made resistance. After
some years passed in this way, our friend seemed to have taken
a dislike to the mode of life, and enlisted as a soldier in the
service of the Sultan of Marocco. In his new position he had gained
or developed some elementary notions of religion and morality,
and he now expressed a strong opinion as to the impropriety of
robbery and murder.
Here was a case such as is often cited by superficial travellers
to show the absence of a moral sense among savage people. This man
had no doubt robbed and murdered in his youth without the slightest
compunction; but, given the conditions under which the ethical sense
could be developed, the result was to produce an individual morally
superior to the majority of those around him. The analogy, so well
drawn by Reid, between the moral nature of man and the development
of the plant from the seed holds good. External conditions are
necessary; but they do not create the germ, without which no
evolution can follow. The conditions vary from one individual to
another. One requires to be fostered by many favourable influences;
another, with stronger vitality, will bud forth under the least
auspicious conditions. The assertion that there are human beings
in whom it is impossible to awaken any sense of difference between
right and wrong must be, at least, premature, until the world shall
have reached a social condition in which each individual may be
tried under appropriate conditions.
Our day’s botanising on the rocks near Seksaoua was successful
beyond our expectations. Many conspicuous plants peculiar to
Marocco were here seen for the first time. Several of these had
been gathered by M. Balansa during the four days which he passed
in the adjoining district of Keira, but were known to us only by
name. That active and successful botanical traveller was able to
collect so few specimens that in several cases no duplicates were
available for distribution, and the specimens exist only in the rich
herbarium of M. Cosson. Among other novelties we here saw for the
first time _Trachelium angustifolium_ of Schousboe, utterly unlike
any other species of that ornamental genus; _Teucrium rupestre_
and _T. bullatum_, both described by M. Cosson from Balansa’s
specimens; and a single specimen of _Elæoselinum exinvolucratum_
of Cosson, a fine umbelliferous plant, apparently very rare even in
its native district. A very fine _Brassica_, standing five or six
feet high, with a straight upright stem, set with candelabrum-like
branches, was the most remarkable new plant found by us which had
not already come in the way of M. Balansa.
The morning had been cool; the thermometer at 8 A.M. did not rise
above 64° F., and the sky was overclouded; but as the day went
on the sun blazed out with great power, and this was one of the
hottest days we experienced. The heat was, of course, especially
felt on bare rocks which became so hot that the hand could not
bear them; and the soldier who had gone out by way of protecting
us judiciously retired to the shade of a fig-tree at the foot of
the hill. After some time, we separated and returned to the camp
by different routes. A portion of the slope not far above our
camp was altogether covered with broken blocks of moderate size
obviously derived from the steeper crags above. This ground abounded
in reptiles of various kinds, which were, however, so shy that it
was not easy to get a favourable view of them. By sitting perfectly
still for some minutes, Ball was partly successful in getting them
to approach him. The most remarkable creature much resembled a
miniature Iguanodon in form, being about eighteen inches long, with
a row of thick conical processes projecting upwards along the back,
and gradually diminishing towards the tail from about two inches
in height between the shoulders. Numerous lizards were also seen;
but no snakes, except a small black viperine species, seen gliding
between the stones, actually under one foot, which fortunately did
not touch or injure the animal.
By this time we were beginning to feel the effects of the
unsatisfactory dietary to which we had been reduced during the
four weeks since we left Mogador. It may seem unreasonable for
men in health, plentifully supplied with fowls, sheep, and eggs,
to complain of their food; but those who have experienced the
difference between the meat of well-fed animals and the stringy
tasteless fibre which is produced in such a country as this,
will duly appreciate our longing for some variety. As the season
advanced, and the herbage in the lower country became more and more
parched, the sheep, always miserably thin, approached nearer and
nearer to the condition of skeletons, covered with skin and ragged
wool, and for some time back we had given up the attempt to eat
any part, except the liver and kidneys broiled on short sticks;
while the fowls had become equally distasteful. The _keskossou_,
daily presented with the _mona_, was prepared with large quantities
of rancid butter, to which, in spite of many experiments, we never
could reconcile ourselves. Our attempts at obtaining any variety of
diet were quite unsuccessful. Ducks and geese, being by Mohammedans
considered unclean, were out of the question; and the turkey and
guinea-fowl appear to be unknown to the domestic economy of the
Moors. Our chief desideratum was fresh vegetables or fruit, but
these were not to be obtained. Except in the neighbourhood of the
coast towns, where they have been introduced by Europeans, none of
our European vegetables are cultivated in South Marocco, except
the cucumber and the pumpkin, and, owing to the want of the most
elementary skill in horticulture, these seem to remain in season for
a very short time; while the cultivation of fruit, at least in the
districts we traversed, seems to be generally neglected. In this
respect Marocco presents a striking contrast to most places with
a somewhat similar climate in the Mediterranean region. Egypt,
Palestine, and Syria, however low they may have fallen owing to
corrupt and oppressive government, have retained some share in
the inheritance of an ancient civilisation. We had carried with us
sundry tins of preserved vegetables, of which green peas were by far
the most acceptable; but our stores were now nearly exhausted, and
our chief remaining luxury was portable soup, made with compressed
vegetables and biscuits, which was now served out very sparingly. Tea
without milk was often pleasant in the evening; but cocoa, prepared
with milk in small tins, was much preferred for the morning meal.
The evening air was cool and pleasant, and, in spite of the advancing
season, the night almost cold, though the height of our station,
by the mean of two observations, did not exceed 2,867 feet (874
m.). Even the horrible howling of the dogs in a neighbouring village
failed to keep us from a good night’s rest.
The morning of May 27 broke brilliantly, and, though the sun’s
rays were already hot, the thermometer in the shade at 6 A.M. did
not rise above 60° F. Another attempt was made to induce the sheik
to take us for an excursion up the main valley; but he held fast to
his declaration that the country in that direction was too dangerous,
and repeated his offer of the previous day to lead us up the nearer
mountain. Failing anything better, we resolved to accept this.
The declivity of the hill immediately west of our camp being
much too steep for horses, we followed a circuitous track, at
first NW. and then SSW., chiefly along steep slopes, on which,
among other novelties, we first gathered _Erodium atlanticum_,
discovered in this district by M. Balansa. After an ascent of some
1,500 or 1,600 feet the track turned again nearly due west, and
we found ourselves on the southern slope of the mountain, which we
now saw to be almost completely detached from the main range of the
Atlas. The slightly convex ridge on which we stood inclined gently
to the south, forming the watershed between the Seksaoua valley
and that of Imintanout which adjoins it on the west. The slopes of
the mountains enclosing both those valleys are better wooded than
usual in the Atlas, some variety of evergreen oak being apparently
the prevailing tree. Behind us, as we stood facing the great range,
the mountain rose some 1,200 feet above our present level, and as
the sun was hot we did not immediately dismount, but continued to
ride some part of the way, only the final ascent being made on foot.
The view was in many respects very interesting, as it showed us a
great part of the main range from an entirely new point of view,
and the air on this day was unusually clear. Looking westward, where
the horizon, at a distance of at least eighty miles, must have been
rather near the Atlantic coast, we were able to assure ourselves
that the hills that extend through most of the great province of
Haha are all of moderate height, none of them approaching that
on which we stood. In this respect Beaudouin’s map is much more
correct than that of Gerhard Rohlfs, which seems to show that the
main chain at its western end is broken up into lofty, diverging
branches, some of which extend far through Haha. No prominent object
caught the eye to the northward, except the familiar flat-topped
hills near Sheshaoua. For the last time we were able to distinguish
the site of the city of Marocco, bearing about NE. by E., and over
sixty miles distant. About due east the high range at the head of
the Aït Mesan valley showed much more snow than when we viewed it
five days before from the summit of Djebel Tezah, while the latter
mountain seemed pretty much in the same condition in which we had
found it. About due south a rugged peak towards the head of the
Imintanout valley had snow in rifts and depressions; and another of
somewhat similar aspect, rising farther east and above the head of
the Seksaoua valley, seemed to be the highest point in the whole
range west of the sources of the Oued Nfys. From their position,
and the ruggedness of their aspect, either of these peaks promised
well for a naturalist who could succeed in gaining access to them,
but we felt that such good fortune was not now in store for us.
The fresh sheet of snow which had fallen on the Aït Mesan range
within the last few days led us to what seemed an explanation of the
inconsistent accounts given as well by travellers as by natives as to
the existence of perpetual snow on this part of the Great Atlas. From
its position between the Great Desert to the south, the Atlantic
Ocean to the west, and the low country to the north, it is obvious
that a range of mountains from 11,000 to 13,000 feet in height must
frequently be the seat of violent atmospheric disturbances. Whenever
these draw from the ocean currents of heated air, nearly saturated
with moisture, into the upper region, the cooling effect consequent
on rapid expansion must produce copious precipitation, and it is
most probable that on the higher part of the range this, even in
the hottest season, takes the form of snow. But, as we had seen,
the snow melts with extreme rapidity under the almost vertical sun
during the summer months; and hence one traveller may have seen the
range thickly snowed even in the hottest season, while another,
with equal truth, may describe it as almost completely bare. The
state of things is such that a very moderate change in the physical
conditions might easily lead to the accumulation of an annual surplus
of unmelted snow, which is the first condition for the formation
of glaciers. A mere increase in the amount of precipitation, with
little change in the general conditions of temperature of this
region, might produce glaciers reaching as low down as that whose
moraine we saw at the head of the Aït Mesan valley.
Many early-flowering plants were already withered, but we collected
on the mountain several interesting species. Of two tall and very
distinct _Resedas_ found here, one is also a native of Spain; the
other, _R. elata_, of Cosson, was first gathered by M. Balansa,
and seems to be confined to this district. Of another curious
plant discovered by the same active naturalist we now first
saw satisfactory specimens. It is at first sight scarcely to be
distinguished from a species characteristic of the hot and dry region
of North Africa—the _Cynara acaulis_ of Linnæus. The latter was
discovered by Tilli, a Florentine physician, afterwards professor
of botany at Pisa, who was called to Constantinople early in the
last century to cure the favourite daughter of the Sultan. Being
successful in his treatment, he received many tokens of favour,
and seems to have made use of his opportunities to visit several
parts of the Turkish Empire, and certainly travelled in the Regency
of Tunis. The same plant was next seen by the English traveller,
Thomas Shaw, who mentions it in the Appendix to his Travels
published in 1738; and it was at last more fully described and
well figured by Desfontaines in his excellent work, the _Flora
Atlantica_. Decandolle, in attempting to reduce to order the vast
mass of plants that belong to the natural order of _Compositæ_,
clearly saw that this differed essentially from the genus _Cynara_
(of which the type is the common artichoke), and referred it first
to _Serratula_, and finally to _Rhaponticum_; and it has hence been
generally known as _Rhaponticum acaule_. Many botanists were somewhat
startled to find in the _Genera Plantarum_ of Bentham and Hooker
that the authors had united all the plants hitherto ranked under the
generic name _Rhaponticum_ with _Centaurea_, a vast genus, containing
species of the most varied aspect, of which nearly 300 are already
known in the Mediterranean region. It was interesting to us to find
that the new species discovered by Balansa, of which the foliage
is quite undistinguishable from the old _Rhaponticum acaule_, is,
as regards the flowering heads, intermediate in structure between
that and recognised species of _Centaurea_, though nearer to the
latter. If we had remembered Shaw’s statement, that the roots of
his _Cynara acaulis_ have an agreeable flavour, and are eaten by
the Arabs in some parts of Africa, we should certainly have tried
whether the species are also similar in this respect.
During the ascent of the mountain we had passed near a little hamlet,
containing eight or ten houses of the poorest class; but the laws of
native hospitality required that refreshments should be offered to
the strangers, and on the way back a halt was called. The _mona_
consisted of eggs, wheaten cakes, butter, and milk, which were
speedily despatched; and we added to our collections a curious
biennial variety of _Rumex vesicarius_, having the membranous wings
enclosing the fruit of a bright rose red.
By 4 P.M. we had got back to our camp, and the remainder of the day
was devoted to the care of our collections. Before nightfall Kaïd
el Hadj returned from his mission to Mtouga, bringing confirmation
of the reports as to the outbreak of hostilities between the people
of Mtouga and their neighbours of Haha, with an addition to our
escort in the shape of six ragged-looking soldiers sent by the
Governor of Mtouga.
On the morning of May 28 our numbers were further increased by
the return of the two soldiers who had left us at Sektana for the
purpose of escorting Maw to Mogador. They were welcome, for they
brought letters from England, together with a good account of our
travelling companion. He had reached Mogador early on the fifth day
from Sektana, and happened to arrive a few hours before the departure
of a small British steamer bound from the Canary Islands to London.
Before departing, we gave a last look at the neighbourhood of our
camp, and reluctantly abstained from attempting a close examination
of the ancient castle, or fort, which stood at the opposite side of
the stream commanding the entrance to the main valley. We were well
aware that any curiosity shown in that direction would have been
set down to designs on buried treasure, and would have aggravated
the suspicion with which all our proceedings were viewed by the
native authorities.
We did not start until 10 A.M., and with an unusually long cavalcade
followed a faintly marked track that winds round the northern
base of the mountain which we had ascended on the preceding day,
gradually attaining to a height of several hundred feet above
the plain. Before long we crossed the borders of Imintanout, a
district including several villages under a sheik who is dependent
on the Governor of Haha. Through the valley, which here opens out,
lies the main road from Marocco to Tarudant, the chief town of
Sous. Jackson, who seems to have gained the especial favour of the
reigning Emperor, received, about the beginning of this century,
permission to accompany a military force despatched from Marocco
to Tarudant, and no other European is known to have traversed this
part of the Atlas.[1] Unfortunately his account of the expedition
is limited to the statement that the way lies through a narrow
defile, where the path cut in the rock is only 15 inches wide,
with the mountain rising almost perpendicularly on one side, and on
the other a precipice ‘as steep as Dover cliff, but more than ten
times the height.’ It would have been a matter of great interest
to us to make a short excursion up the valley, and to penetrate
this defile, but once more we were doomed to disappointment. The
sheik, having notice of our approach, met us near to what seemed
the chief village. His language and manner were quite friendly,
but he declared that it was quite impossible for us to enter the
valley. Fighting, as he declared, was actually going on between the
mountain tribes, those of Ida Mahmoud, to the east of the valley,
taking part with Mtouga, and those of Ida Ziki, on the west side,
holding with Haha. It was impossible to get any reliable information
as to the nature of the country along the mountain road. According to
one informant the distance to Tarudant may be traversed in two days,
while another declared that time to be necessary to reach the summit
of the pass. It seems certain that the main chain in approaching
its western termination has a less regular structure than in the
part nearer Marocco. It throws out numerous diverging ridges;
the peaks, while inferior in absolute height, are more isolated;
and the valleys, or at least that of Imintanout, now opening in
front of us, seem to be more deeply excavated. We certainly heard
the names of the two mountains mentioned above, which appear on
Beaudouin’s map; but no name at all resembling Djebel Aithadius,
which M. Balansa gives for one of the higher snow-seamed peaks in
this part of the range.
We were here again struck by the difficulty of catching the sounds
from native lips, a feat to be achieved only by repeated trials. At
a first essay two Europeans will often write down a name in ways
so utterly different that they cannot be recognised as intended to
represent the same sound. Though some of the Shelluhs understand
and use the word _Gebel_ (or _Djebel_) for a mountain, the native
word, at least in this district, seems to be certainly _Ida_,
probably connected with _Idrarn_, the plural form of _Adrar_,
a mountain. Idrarn Drann is the name given by the Shelluhs to
the whole, or some considerable portion, of the Atlas range; and
etymologists, when they come to know more of the Bereber dialects,
may consider whether the name Dyris, by which this part of the Atlas
was known to the Romans, is connected with the same root. Captain
Beaudouin, the author of the French map, seems to have been misled
by natives of this region, who would sometimes call a great mountain
well known to them by the generic name _Ida_, and sometimes by a
special local name, and was thus led to consider these as alternative
names. Thus he writes the names of three mountains, Ida _ou_ Ziki,
Ida _ou_ Mahmoud, and Ida _ou_ Mahmed.
When it was clear that nothing was here to be effected in the way
of mountain exploration, and it was seen that the day was too far
gone to reach Mtouga, we decided on proceeding to Milhaïn, a place,
as we were told, standing close to the foot of the mountains. Only
a slender stream which we crossed, issues from the valley above
Imintanout, and conflicting statements were made as to the course
of this, as well as of the other stream which we saw somewhat
later at Milhaïn. In ordinary weather both are probably absorbed
into irrigation channels before they traverse the plain; but it is
most likely that their natural course, which they must follow in
rainy weather, joins that of the Oued Usbi flowing from Seksaoua,
and reaches the Oued Tensift by the way of Sheshaoua.
An easy ride of two hours took us to Milhaïn. The outer skirts
of the Atlas here had an unexpectedly bare and sterile aspect. We
had supposed that in the portion of the range approaching the
Atlantic coast a more copious rainfall would produce more luxuriant
vegetation. We were now within about 70 miles of the ocean, but,
as compared with the valleys south of Marocco, the change had been
in the opposite sense. It may well be that owing to the diminished
height of the mountains the cooling of the aërial currents from
the W. and SW. is here insufficient to cause much rain, except
in winter, or possibly this part of the range is more exposed to
hot and dry winds from the desert. It may also be true that the
difference in the vegetation is largely due to the mineral structure
of the rocks in this district. They chiefly consist of hard brittle
semi-crystalline limestone, with softer beds intercalated, and the
rainfall must be very rapidly absorbed in crevices and fissures. No
trees were to be seen, except olives planted near the villages,
and a few white poplars near the banks of the stream beside which
we pitched our camp.
We were fully prepared for the assurance of the village sheik that
the condition of the country made it impossible for him to conduct
us into the valley which here issues from the Great Atlas, and sends
down a stream rather more considerable than that of Imintanout;
and, as it was clearly useless to press the point, we contented
ourselves by expressing a wish to take a short walk into a recess of
the mountain enclosed between steep rocky declivities that opened
within sight of our camp. A jocund young Shelluh was appointed
as a guide, though none in reality was required; and he somewhat
interested us by singing lustily at the top of his voice songs of
a lively character. Hitherto all the mountaineers we had met were
marked by a serious and somewhat saddened demeanour, as of people
on whom the burden of life pressed heavily, the only exceptions
being among the men we had brought from Mogador, of whom Ambak was
especially noticeable for his cheerful and lively humour.
The outer slopes of the hills about Milhaïn were scantily clad with
a meagre vegetation, in which a woolly variety of _Ononis Natrix_,
_Helianthemum virgatum_, some variety of the ubiquitous _Teucrium
Polium_ and _Macrochloa tenacissima_ were the prevailing species;
and the attempts at tillage seemed to produce only miserable crops
of barley. We expected to find more variety on the rocks which were
before us, and were not altogether disappointed; but the season
was already far advanced, and the spring vegetation partially
dried up. Along the dry bed of the streamlet, that is probably
filled only after heavy rain, we gathered _Euphorbia pinea_, not
before seen in Marocco. On the dry rocks we found a curious form
of _Coronilla viminalis_, reduced to a stunted bush, scarcely two
feet high, with its curious jointed pods, four or five inches in
length. A range of quite vertical crags was almost covered with two
peculiar plants of this region—_Euphorbia rimarum_, of Cosson,
and _Andrachne maroccana_, of Ball. The latter, though abundantly
different in structure, has much the habit of _A. telephioides_,
the wide-spread Mediterranean species. In a crevice of these rocks
a single small specimen of the rare fern, _Asplenium Petrarchæ_,
was also found.
The hill opposite that which we ascended was crowned by a fort,
similar in character to those which we had seen elsewhere on the
skirts of the Atlas, to which our Shelluh guide gave the name
Taganagurt. Our involuntary change of route prevented us from
ascertaining whether these extend westward along the northern
base of the mountains in the direction of Agadir, but this is
probable. Future travellers may be able to ascertain more about them
than we were able to do. To whatever date their construction be
referred, it is clear that they were erected either by the people
inhabiting the low country to restrain the incursions of mountain
tribes, or by the latter to repel attacks on their independence,
the former being, in our opinion, the more probable opinion.
We returned to camp between 5 and 6 P.M., and found that a courier
from Mogador had arrived with letters from Mr. Carstensen. The
whole province of Haha was, he assured us, in a most disturbed
state; and besides, the war with Mtouga was complicated by the
insurrection of some of the tribes in Haha against the authority
of their own Governor. He strongly urged that we should abandon the
intention of travelling along the skirts of the Atlas through Haha,
and make up our minds to return from Mtouga by way of Shedma,
telling us that he proposed to meet us at the _kasbah_ of the
Governor of that province on the last day of May. We were very
loth to forego the promise of seeing a district new to travellers,
and far more interesting than any lying on the direct way from
Mtouga to Mogador; but we felt it impossible to persevere in the
face of Mr. Carstensen’s strong opposition. It was, indeed, open
to question whether, under the ægis of the Sultan’s protection,
we might not without serious risk have carried out our original
intention. Whatever might be the intestine troubles of the country,
it could not suit any of the contending parties to provoke encounter
with the paramount authority of the Sultan; but we felt that we
had no right to take a course directly opposed to the advice of
the official representative of our Government, and especially of
one to whom we felt under so many obligations.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Mr. Lempriere, an army surgeon, who went in 1791
by the invitation of the reigning Sultan to treat his son Mouley
Absolon, Governor of Sous, probably travelled this way on his road
from Tarudant to Marocco; but his narrative is too imperfect to
establish the conclusion. See Appendix C.]
CHAPTER XII.
Departure from Milhaïn — Defile of Aïn Tarsil — Dwellings
of the troglodytes — Arrival at Mtouga — Gloomy evening —
Governor’s return from the fight — Prisoners of war — Their
fate — Ride to Mskala — A venerable Moor — Return to the
_kasbah_ of Shedma — Poisoned guests — Ride to Aïn el-Hadjar
— The Iron mountain — Ancient mining work — Eccentric soldier
— Ascent of Djebel Hadid — Ruins of Akermout — Ride to Mogador
— A _kasbah_ in ruins — Powder play on the beach — Return
to Mogador.
The partial failure of our plans doubtless had a depressing effect
on the morning of May 29, and this was increased by the aspect
of the weather, which was misty, and before long turned to fine,
drizzling rain. At 8 A.M. the thermometer stood at 58° F., and
we found the height above the sea of our camp at Milhaïn to be
3,397 feet (1,035·3 metres). We were in no hurry to start; but,
as the rain grew lighter and finally ceased, we got under way about
11 A.M. The sheik, who had provided for our wants and those of
our escort on a liberal scale, escorted us for a short distance,
and we parted with friendly expressions on both sides.
Our course lay somewhat west of due north, over a bare and sterile
country. Small hamlets, surrounded by a narrow belt of cultivation,
were seen at rather wide intervals; and, save a few olive trees near
the houses, we did not pass a single tree during the day. _Artemisia
Herba-alba_, and _Chenopodiaceæ_ of the _Salsola_ tribe, were
the prevailing plants, indicating the presence of gypsum and of
soluble salts in the soil. About three o’clock we approached
a large village, with a massive square _kasbah_, and soon after,
following a dry watercourse, entered the singular defile which,
as well as the village, is known by the name Aïn Tarsil. It has
evidently been formed by erosion from the limestone strata which
dip slightly towards the south. The surrounding country here shows
a hilly undulating surface, unbroken by any marked inequalities;
but the stream, though dry in ordinary weather, has cut a trench
from two to three miles in length, and from thirty to fifty feet
in width, between steep walls of rock about equal in height to the
width of the trench.
M. Balansa, the only traveller who is known to have passed through
this defile, must have been more hurried than we were, as he does
not speak of the numerous rare and local plants which grow upon the
rocks, most of them, indeed, the same that we had found on the rocks
about Seksaoua. But he could not avoid being struck by the singular
excavations in the rock, evidently used at some remote period for
human habitation, which extend at intervals along both sides of the
defile. In some cases there may have been a natural recess in the
rock, afterwards artificially enlarged; but the majority appear
to be altogether the work of human hands; and in most of them,
where the entrance had become difficult owing to the breaking away
of pieces of rock from the edge, this was afterwards made good by
building up a bit of loose wall of irregular blocks of stone. The
height of the entrance does not exceed four feet, and is often
less. The most singular point about these dwellings is the fact
that they are all near the top of the cliff, where the rock is
nearly vertical, in positions that cannot now be reached without
a ladder, or other artificial assistance. It might be suggested
that since these prehistoric dwellings were abandoned, the work of
erosion has deepened the trench, and thus increased the difficulty
of access; but unless we suppose that during the same period the
climatal conditions have been profoundly modified, this seems a
highly improbable explanation. As far as we could afterwards judge,
the watercourse running through the defile receives the drainage of
only a small tract of hill country, and the marks of water action do
not extend to the rocks on either side. It is impossible to see these
remains without being reminded of the notions current in antiquity as
to troglodytes who dwelt in the neighbourhood of the Atlas mountains,
and who could run faster than horses;[1] but until the dwellings
can be carefully examined, all speculation as to their date and
origin must be vague and unreliable. It seems most probable that
the rude savages who fashioned them for their own use deliberately
chose positions offering the best security against attack, either
from human enemies or wild beasts. Whether to facilitate entrance
they used a rude ladder, such as the notched trunk of a tree, or
relied on the superior climbing power which the freer use of the
foot confers on most savage people, must remain uncertain.
As usual in this country the Moors refer these, as well as all
other antique remains, to the ‘Christians,’ and stories of
concealed treasure connected with all such monuments, of whatever
date, make it almost impossible to attempt to explore or examine
them. The work can be undertaken only by a traveller authorised
by a special order of the Sultan, who should also be prepared by
handsome presents to secure the goodwill of the local authorities.
We halted for luncheon in a convenient spot, and gave some time to
botanising on the rocks, where, along with other plants, we found
a beautiful variety of the _Stachys saxicola_ of Cosson, densely
covered with very long, white, silky hairs. It was near to five
o’clock before we were again under way. For some time the defile
continued, the cliff-like walls still showing at intervals excavated
rock dwellings, and at one point it receives a tributary stream,
with a bed now dry, which had cut a similar trench, and whose
cliffs also showed the traces of rock dwellings. As we advanced,
always ascending, we gradually emerged from the defile, and found
ourselves on the slope of the hills that extend northward from the
base of the Great Atlas for a distance of thirty or forty miles, and
are probably continuous with the low range that we crossed between
Shedma and Aïn Oumast. There must be some change hereabouts in the
mineral composition of the limestone rock, if not in its geological
age; as from about this point the surface was much less barren,
and the vegetation more varied. Among other fine _Cynaraceæ_
we saw here _Atractylis macrophylla_ of Desfontaines, only once
before met in our journey.
The sky was overcast, and evening coming on, when we reached the
summit-level, which by our observations is 3,905 feet (1,190·2
m.) above the sea-level.[2] It did not appear to us that the
surrounding hills anywhere rise more than 200 or 300 feet above the
point where we passed, and, as we afterwards assured ourselves,
they gradually diminish in height as they stretch northward from
the main range of the Atlas. Although the matter is not free from
doubt, we incline to agree with M. Balansa in believing that the
hills we had now crossed form the watershed between the affluents
of the stream running northward by Sheshaoua, and those of the Oued
Kseb, which reaches the sea close to Mogador. Beaudouin’s map,
usually correct as regards the accessible parts of the country,
represents things quite otherwise; according to him all the drainage
of this district is carried NNW. by a stream which passes east
of the Djebel Hadid, and reaches the sea between Mogador and the
mouth of the Oued Tensift; while the Oued Kseb, or Oued el Ghored
of Beaudouin, has a course of only some twenty miles, and drains
but a small tract of country near the coast. In most countries
such a question would admit of no doubt; but, between absorption
by irrigation and loss by evaporation, the streams in South Marocco
dwindle away on their course so fast, that only at certain seasons it
is possible to trace their course. As now advised, we believe that
many considerable streams unite in the Oued Kseb, although this,
at its mouth, is a mere trickling rivulet, unable to keep a definite
course through the Mogador sands to the sea; while the stream laid
down east of the Djebel Hadid has not, so far as we could ascertain,
any real existence.
A large flowered form of _Nigella arvensis_, with a few other plants
which we had not seen since we approached the mountains, indicated
a change in the soil, now much less barren as we descended the
north-west slope of the hills; and as twilight had set in we reached
the _kasbah_ of the Governor of Mtouga, a large pile surrounded by
lofty stone walls. The soldiers, who had ridden forward to announce
our approach, found for some time no response to their summons
at the gate; and it was after some delay that two or three slaves
presented themselves, and we then learned that the Governor and all
his men had gone forth to fight against their enemies from Haha. No
orders had been given for our entertainment; but we were told that
within the enclosure of the _kasbah_ there were rooms which were at
our disposal. Our brave escort at once grasped at the prospect of
shelter and safety within the walls, and were urgent that we should
at once decide on accepting the offer. On inspecting the room to
which he was conducted, Hooker had no difficulty, however, in at once
refusing the proffered accommodation, and the alternative course
of pitching our tents within the enclosure, on ground constantly
trodden by cattle, was equally uninviting. Much to the trouble of
our followers, the order finally went forth that the tents should
be pitched on some moderately level ground outside the _kasbah_.
Slowly and sulkily the order was obeyed, we meanwhile sitting on
our horses, while the night fell gloomily around us. There was no
real ground for the uneasiness which our people undoubtedly felt,
as night attacks are quite foreign to the usages of the country;
but there was a genuine feeling that the Mtouga people were greatly
overmatched in their struggle with the Haha tribes, three or four
times more numerous than themselves. In the absence of supper
every ear was on the alert for the approach of some one with
tidings of the fray. At last, about 9 o’clock two men appeared;
whether they had taken part in the fight, or judiciously taken
flight, did not clearly appear. They claimed a victory for Mtouga,
declaring that eighteen men of Haha had been killed, and that many
prisoners had been taken, while acknowledging that the victors had
also suffered losses. Half an hour later the main body approached,
but it was soon evident that the return was anything rather than
a triumph. The night was too dark to take account of the whole
number that passed by our camp, or to observe their countenances;
but the Governor with a good many mounted soldiers, and a file of
from twenty to thirty prisoners tied together to bring up the rear,
passed close before our tent, and the dark outline of each figure
against the sky passed in long succession before us.
There was something weird and uncanny in the deep silence of the
nocturnal procession. The Governor, wrapped up in a white _haik_, did
not turn his head, or seem to notice the strangers, and his followers
copied his demeanour. Not a sound was uttered until the file of
prisoners passed by, when one man made a sudden rush towards us,
imploring our protection. Of course the attempt was vain, for they
were all securely tied together, and each end of the rope was held
by a mounted soldier. With many a blow and curse the wretched man
was driven along to share the fate of his companions in captivity.
A little later came a message from the Governor, excusing himself
for not coming in person to see us. He owned to having lost many of
his men during the day’s encounter, and said he was too anxious
and disturbed to be able to entertain us. An ample _mona_ was at the
same time sent, and this helped to restore comparative cheerfulness
among our followers.
As was natural under the circumstances we were anxious for
information, but Abraham was not able to learn any reliable
particulars as to the proceedings of the day. He professed, however,
to be well acquainted with the method of warfare carried on between
these turbulent tribes. The fighting consists in irregular skirmishes
by men who keep as far as possible under cover, in which large
quantities of powder are consumed with comparatively insignificant
results. But, whatever be the result, it is a point of honour with
each party to bring back prisoners. It is not often that these
are made among the fighting men. Harmless peasants are seized—if
of the enemy’s tribe so much the better; but, if these are not
to be had, those of their own tribe are made the victims. We were
assured that the same thing happens with the Sultan’s troops on
the rather frequent occasions when they are despatched against some
refractory mountain tribe. The mountaineers commonly make good their
retreat to some spot not easily reached by horsemen; but, in order
to be able to announce a victory, the detachment seizes any hapless
people that come in their way on their return to the capital. When
we inquired as to the destiny of the captives it was horrible to be
told that some of them would certainly be butchered during the night.
It is strange, although similar anomalies are found in all ages and
countries, to learn that, along with an utter absence of rudimentary
feelings of humanity, these people show indications of the sentiment
of chivalry. However strangely understood, the point of honour has
a recognised place in their ethical system. The feud between Haha
and Mtouga had been smouldering for many weeks, and hostilities
were to have commenced soon after our arrival in the country. But
the brother of the Kaïd of Haha was about that time seized with
small-pox, and it was thought proper to await his recovery before
commencing the war.
The night was overclouded, dark, and almost cold, and we were on foot
at an early hour on the morning of May 30. The _kasbah_, standing on
an elevated plateau, 3,085 feet (940·3 metres) above the sea-level,
does not, owing to the undulating character of the surface, command
any extensive view. Close beside it, a stream from the Atlas has
excavated a broad trench, similar in structure to Aïn Tarsil,
but very different in aspect. A streamlet here meanders along
the flat bottom between walls of rock some 40 feet in height,
and the more constant supply of moisture suffices to cover the
floor of the miniature valley with a carpet of vegetation, and to
support a fringe of tall water plants along the banks. We might
probably have added several species to our lists if we could have
devoted a day to botanising along the course of the stream; but in
the existing state of the country that could not be thought of,
and we contented ourselves with a morning stroll over the ground
surrounding the _kasbah_, and along the neighbouring banks of
the stream. As we wandered separately, Hooker was assailed with
extraordinary vehemence by a negro woman. Not a word could, of
course, be understood; but the objurgations of a virago are to some
extent intelligible in every language. It was not possible to guess
what induced this outpouring of threats and abuse, but it seemed
probable that a botanist might unconsciously have done something
to clash with the superstitious feelings of the natives. It is
clear that the religion of Mohammed reaches but skin deep with the
Bereber population, while traditional observances, derived from far
more ancient religious systems, are still deeply rooted among them.
Much to the relief of our escort, whose first anxiety was to get
away from the troubled district, we started about 10 A.M. The
Kaïd sent another message, again excusing himself from a personal
interview. We afterwards learned that he had made a present of
four dollars to each of our escort, of course with the object of
procuring some degree of support and countenance at head-quarters.
Our course during the day lay between NW. and NNW., keeping for
a short distance along the course of the stream. At two or three
points we saw traces of rock dwellings, not nearly so well preserved
as those of Aïn Tarsil. Before long the walls of rock subsided on
each side of the stream, which bent in a westerly direction, while
our track ascended gently amid undulating downs, till we reached a
point commanding a wide unbroken view of the northern horizon. To
the eye the country before us seemed almost a dead level, but there
is a decided general slope from south to north, as we more fully
ascertained in the evening, when we found that we had descended
fully 1,500 feet during the day’s ride. The outline of the Iron
Mountain (Djebel Hadid) was now clearly traceable in the distance,
the highest part bearing about due NW. As we advanced there was a
manifest improvement in the fertility of the soil, and for a space
of five or six miles we rode amidst cultivated fields, apparently
the most productive that we had seen in South Marocco. The same
conditions necessarily affected the wild plants of the country,
and made it difficult to secure specimens of manageable dimensions
of several interesting species. A great _Daucus_ (_D. maximus_
of Desfontaines), probably a luxuriant form, or sub-species,
of the common carrot, grew to a height of four or five feet, and
the flowering umbels were often more than a foot in diameter. More
ornamental was a splendid _Centaurea_, three or four feet high, with
very large heads of deep orange flowers, often tinged with purple,
which we took to be altogether new. Subsequent examination made it
doubtful whether it should be separated from a very variable North
African species, _C. incana_ of Desfontaines, though much larger
in all its parts, and differing in the colour of the flowers.
We halted for luncheon near a village called Hazarar Assa, standing,
as we were assured, at the frontier, between the provinces of Mtouga
and Shedma. In Beaudouin’s map those provinces are separated by an
intervening strip of territory, apparently belonging to the Ouled
Bou Sba tribe. As political divisions in this country are subject
to frequent alteration, the map may have been correct at the time
it was made.
Maize was grown near the village, although no means for irrigation
were apparent. As the growth of this plant is in general absolutely
dependent on a frequent supply of water to the soil, we could only
infer that we had come within the limits of the coast climate,
and that as a general rule rain cannot there be very unfrequent
during the months of April, May, and June.
During the halt the villagers reported that fighting was still
going on in the neighbourhood, and a few gunshots were heard in the
distance; but, as our course led us away from the scene of action,
the result, if any, was never known to us.
In the afternoon our track bore more westward than before, keeping
about due NW. in general direction. We soon left the fertile ground
behind us, and for many miles rode over slightly undulating stony
downs, where the prevailing slope is always to the N. or NW. The
vegetation in these barren tracts is mostly of the social kind, two
or three species, or sometimes one only, prevailing over a wide area,
and then being suddenly supplanted by others. _Artemisia Herba-alba_,
and _Retama monosperma_, are in this part of the country the
dominant species. The monotony of the way was pleasantly broken by
crossing a little valley traversed by a mere rivulet, which, however,
sufficed to support a more varied and cheerful vegetation. From the
rising ground beyond it, we gained a view to the south, and saw at a
distance of eight or ten miles a massive pile of building crowning
a low, thickly-planted hill, with a large enclosed space occupying
part of the slope. The _kasbah_ belonged to the Kaïd of Haha, and
was on a scale proportioned to the importance of the Governor of
one of the largest and richest provinces of the empire. We found
additional reason for regretting the ill-timed local war, which
prevented us from paying him a visit. Although guilty of frequent
acts of atrocious cruelty, he was said to receive strangers with
the utmost courtesy and hospitality.
As evening was fast approaching, we rode hurriedly through a little
defile among the hills, where the rocks promised plants of interest,
and soon after came upon the first Argan trees that we had seen
since we quitted the province of Shedma, on April 30. Associated
as the tree was in our minds with Mogador, where we had bidden
farewell to European life, the sight awakened feelings of regret at
the approaching termination of our tour, tempered by satisfaction
at the prospect of returning to the usages and intercourse of
civilised life.
About seven o’clock we reached Mskala, a rather large village on a
stony slope, and saw close beside it an extensive camp where the old
Governor of Shedma, with a considerable force, was, by the Sultan’s
order, watching the progress of events in the contest between the
adjoining provinces. We established ourselves in a stony field a
few hundred yards away from the Governor’s camp, and before long
an ample _mona_, consisting of two sheep, twenty-four fowls, tea,
sugar, butter, and other luxuries, followed a little later by seven
large dishes of cooked food, satisfied the cravings of our ever
greedy soldiers, and the greater part of the night was devoted to
general feasting throughout our camp.
On the morning of May 31 our men were in no haste to bestir
themselves after the orgy of the preceding night, and we indulged
in a longer rest than usual. The weather was fine and clear,
but remarkably cool considering the moderate elevation of this
district. By our observations our camp stood at 1,562 feet (476·3
m.) above the sea; yet at 8 A.M., when the sun was already high above
the horizon, the thermometer marked only 65° F. It was suggested
that politeness required a visit to the old Governor, and Hooker,
with our interpreter and some of the escort, devoted himself to
that duty, while Ball set off alone for a short botanical ramble
over the bare, stony hills surrounding our camp. The excursion was
not very fruitful, except in the way of illustrating the effects
of barren soil and exposure, without the slightest shade or cover,
on the growth of many species that here assumed a dwarfed and
stunted condition.
Hooker, who had seen too much of the people of barbarous countries to
be open to the illusions that many travellers, new to their manners,
readily fall into, was, for once, very favourably impressed by his
interview with the Governor of Shedma. He had found an old man of
venerable aspect, with remarkably fine features, whose conversation
displayed a happy union of dignity and frankness. He was engaged
in superintending the distribution of pay to his soldiers, and the
subject that naturally arose for discussion was the part which he
and his forces were destined to play in the intestine troubles
of their neighbours. His instructions from the Sultan were, as
it seemed, of an indefinite kind. He had, in the first instance,
endeavoured to play the part of mediator and avert the outbreak
of hostilities. His present duty was to hold himself in readiness
to carry out such further orders as he might receive. Considering
the jealousies that always exist between the people of neighbouring
provinces, usually inhabited by tribes of different race and origin,
it may be doubted whether the troubles and losses of their neighbours
are in Marocco viewed as matters of deep concern; or whether, as
sometimes happens among the statesmen of more important countries,
the mediator may not feel some secret satisfaction at the failure
of his own proposals.
Shortly before 10 A.M. we started for an easy ride of three hours
over the undulating country that lies between Mskala and the _kasbah_
of Shedma, where we were to meet Mr. Carstensen. It was an agreeable
change from the bare hills, with which we had of late been familiar,
to enter on a comparatively well-wooded country. The Argan trees were
nowhere so near together as to form what could be called a forest,
but scattered in small clumps or single trees over the surface,
so that nothing but a carpet of green turf was wanting to complete
the resemblance to an English park. On reaching the _kasbah_,
we found that our arrival was already expected. Our former host,
the Governor’s corpulent son, had two rooms within the castle
walls prepared for our reception, and before one o’clock we
were installed in clean quarters, with iron bedsteads of European
make, and cushions covered with Rabat carpets to complete the
furniture. Soon after two o’clock notice of Mr. Carstensen’s
approach reached the castle; the Governor’s son, with several armed
men, went forth to meet him, and before long we had the pleasure
of again greeting a gentleman to whose activity and thoughtful care
we felt so much indebted.
Much of the afternoon was naturally employed in giving an account
of our doings. When we reached the close of the story, and Hooker
spoke of his morning’s interview with the aged Governor, in
whose stronghold we were lodged, and the favourable impression
made by his appearance and demeanour, the reply was somewhat
startling even to men who had learned something of the manners of
the country. ‘Yes,’ said Mr. Carstensen, ‘he is a fine-looking
fellow, but he is not much better than other men of his class. Last
year he poisoned two friends of mine under very discreditable
circumstances.’ The victims were men of consequence, near kinsmen
of the Governor, and supposed to have much influence among the
Shedma people who resided in Mogador. Early in the preceding year
they were induced by hospitable messages to pay a visit to their
powerful relative. Familiar with the ways of Marocco, and feeling
sure that his friends were objects of jealousy and suspicion to
the great man, Mr. Carstensen at once wrote an urgent letter,
in which he expressed his strong anxiety for the safety of the
visitors. He soon received a reply written in the most reassuring
terms: ‘Far be it from me,’ wrote the Governor, ‘to harm
these men; I shall take every care of them, and cherish them as
if they were my own children.’ A few weeks later another letter
reached Mogador: ‘Nothing could exceed the Governor’s grief at
having to announce that one of his guests had been taken suddenly
ill, and soon after died. Such, however, was the decree of Allah,
and we must all be resigned to his will.’ Mr. Carstensen was
not surprised when, a little later, another letter reached him,
conveying in nearly the same terms an account of the death of the
second guest. He had no doubt of foul play having been used; but
some months later received further assurance, when, on taxing the
Governor’s son (our fat friend) with his suspicions, the latter
answered: ‘Well, the fact is that my papa did not know what to
do with them, so he had them poisoned.’
It seems strange at the present day to find so near to Europe a
condition of society in some respects so like that of Italy in
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, wherein no deed of atrocity
committed by men in authority awakens the slightest feeling of moral
reprobation. In the present instance local ideas had so far prevailed
that Mr. Carstensen did not consider it expedient to allow what
had occurred to interrupt his amicable relations with the Governor.
To lessen our regret for having failed to see something of the
western extremity of the Great Atlas, Mr. Carstensen proposed that we
should visit the Djebel Hadid, or Iron Mountain, a range of hills,
about 2,000 feet in height, that approaches the sea about fourteen
miles NE. of Mogador, and extends inland in a NE. direction for a
distance of some five-and-twenty miles. So far as we knew, this had
not been visited by any European naturalist except M. Balansa, and we
willingly accepted the suggestion, and, following Mr. Carstensen’s
advice, arranged to fix our camp next day at Aïn el Hadjar, a
spot where some copious springs burst forth at the SW. extremity
of the range.
The forenoon of June 1 was spent in the _kasbah_, and in a short
ramble on the adjoining slopes. The appearance of the country
was much altered since we had passed here at the end of April. The
spring vegetation was then far advanced, and many annuals had ripened
their seeds; but, thanks to the rain which had fallen at intervals
during May, a new crop of young plants had sprung up; and during
this and the following days we were able to gather several species
in flower that we had before seen only in fruit. The fields where,
at our last visit, the corn was being cut, had been ploughed up,
and pumpkins had been extensively sown round the _kasbah_. There was
more appearance of a taste for ornamental plants than we had seen
anywhere among the Moors. The Governor had transactions with many of
the foreign merchants at Mogador, and in that way had no difficulty
in obtaining seeds or cuttings of many garden flowers. Amongst these
we noted roses, pinks, garden-stock, geraniums, dahlias, _Tagetes_,
and _Coreopsis_. Oranges and bananas were also cultivated; but
it seemed doubtful whether in ordinary seasons the climate is
suitable. The spring rains had recently extended over a wide tract
of country, but they seem to be more often limited to the zone
surrounding the higher mountains.
Among other articles intended for presents, Ball had picked up in
London a large Highland brooch, with a yellow cairngorm crystal set
in silver. This, with an opera-glass, was given to the Governor’s
son as we took leave of him. The use of gold or silver and jewels
for personal adornment is forbidden by law or custom to Moorish men;
and the gift, which was sure to be transferred to a favourite wife,
did not seem to be much appreciated.
About mid-day we started for our short day’s ride, forming, with
Mr. Carstensen and his suite, a numerous cavalcade. Our course lay
about WNW., over low undulating hills, dotted with Argan trees. Most
of the surface was under cultivation, and appeared to be moderately
fertile. At 2.30 P.M. we reached an olive grove near to a _zaouia_
or sanctuary, called El Masaats. Close to this was a dwelling,
on a larger scale than is common in this country, belonging to
a man of some substance, with whom Mr. Carstensen had friendly
relations. It would have been impossible to pass his home without
a visit, and equally impossible, according to local ideas, for him
to neglect the rites of hospitality. Luncheon for the entire party
was speedily provided, and, while assisting as spectators at the
lively conversation, we once more had to admire Mr. Carstensen’s
perfect command of the native dialect.
As we sat under the trees several parties of natives, dressed in
their best, passed by on their way to the adjoining _zaouia_. This
was the anniversary of the death of the local saint buried at
the sanctuary; and on such occasions the people of this country,
whether Moor or Shelluh, do not fail to resort to the sacred
spot. For the great majority the occasion seems to be no more
than a welcome opportunity for breaking the monotony of their
daily life. Excepting our Mogador Kaïd, who was most exact in the
performance of his devotions, we saw little indication throughout
our journey of regular compliance with the injunctions for daily
prayer, so strictly observed in most Mohammedan countries.
After resuming our route we soon found evidence that we were entering
upon a new botanical region—that of the Atlantic coast. Besides
numerous species not seen since we had left Mogador at the end
of April, we here found for the first time several conspicuous
plants characteristic of this region. In hedges, and among bushes,
a tall _Bupleurum_ (_B. canescens_ of Schousboe) grew to a height of
eight or ten feet, and in similar situations _Periploca lævigata_
was just forming its fruit.
The facts known as to the distribution of the last-named plant,
and the allied species, _Periploca græca_, suggest speculations as
to their past history that deserve some passing notice. The genus
_Periploca_, which takes its name from the twining stems of the
species first known to botanists, has its centre in the sub-tropical
zone of the Asiatic continent. The single mainly western species
is _Periploca lævigata_. This appears to be common in the Canary
Islands, and grows freely in the tract now visited by us to the
north-west of Mogador. It has been found in abundance on some rocky
islands near the coast ot Sicily; but, in spite of the silky hairs
attached to the seeds, it has not spread itself to neighbouring
islands, nor to the Sicilian coast. It has been detected in two
or three places in the south-east of Spain, and here and there in
rocky places on the skirts of the desert in the interior of Algeria
and Tunis. Finally, it was long ago found by Labillardière in one
place on the coast of Syria. All this points to the former wide
diffusion of a plant which no longer finds favourable conditions of
existence, unless, perhaps, in the Canary Islands. Its presence in
the interior of North Africa may possibly date from the period when
it grew near the coast of a great gulf opening to the Atlantic;
but it is not easy to understand how it has held its ground in a
climate so different from that of its natural home. This plant has
inherited from a remote ancestor a habit which is now of no service
to it. The young branches near the root twine round any adjacent
support; but as they grow older they become stiff and straight, and
the taller specimens derive no adventitious support from this source.
The history of _Periploca græca_, the only species known to the
older botanists, is somewhat different. It is rather common in
Georgia, and in parts of Persia and Asia Minor. Less common in
Greece, it becomes extremely rare to the west of that limit, being
found only in Montenegro, at one place in Dalmatia, at another in
South-eastern Italy near Otranto, and, finally, in the pine-woods
on the Tuscan coast near Pisa. These facts indicate the former
wider extension of the species towards the west, and its gradual
retreat towards its primitive home in Asia. But we have more direct
evidence to that effect. The prints of leaves unmistakably belonging
to this species are not uncommon in the quaternary deposits of the
valley of the Arno. It may probably have flourished in thickets on
the Monte Pisano, and on the Monte Nero near Leghorn, when these
were islands in a tertiary sea, and gradually descended towards the
Mediterranean as the coast line was advanced by a change of level,
and by the formation of the deltas of the Arno and the Serchio.
Another conspicuous plant, now seen for the first time, was
_Odontospermum odorum_ (_Asteriscus_ of De Candolle), forming a
dense dwarf bush, about two feet high. The whole plant gives out
an agreeable scent; but, except in this respect, and in having the
leaves covered with white silky hairs, it differs very little from
_0. graveolens_, a characteristic species of the desert region,
remarkable for its offensive smell. The sweet-smelling species had
been hitherto found only in the Mogador district, and in the Canary
Islands; but it was afterwards gathered by us near Saffi.
We reached our destination at about 5.30 P.M., and were agreeably
surprised at the verdure and freshness of the spot. Our camp was
pitched among large olive trees, near to the stream flowing from
the principal spring. The position somewhat resembles that of the
so-called fountain of Elias near Jericho, well known to travellers
in Palestine; but the contrast offered by the vegetation was
remarkable. If a few plants close to the stream appear to thrive
about the waters of Elias, the surrounding vegetation is meagre,
and amid the straggling bushes of exotic aspect that surround the
spot the traveller seeks in vain for effectual protection from
the sun. Here, besides the gigantic olive trees that must have
been planted at a remote period, the white poplar grows to a great
size, and wild herbaceous plants were still green, many of them in
flower as well as fruit, at this advanced season. At a time when
the summer heat has become intolerable at most places in North
Africa the thermometer in our tents stood at about 70° F. an hour
before sunset, and the nights were even cooler than some might have
wished. Something was no doubt due to the unusual amount of rain that
had fallen during the month of May; but if the climate of the coast
region of South Marocco were altered so as to resemble that of other
places in the same latitude, much of the existing vegetation would
soon disappear. On dry sandy slopes above our camp the effects of
the late rains were plainly seen, and before nightfall we collected
a considerable number of annual species in flower, sprung from seeds
borne by the first crop, and ripened two or three months before.
We did not visit the remains of ancient miners’ work that are
visible at several places about the base of the hill; but we found
scoriæ in abundance, and some fragments of the ironstone from which
the mountain takes its name. It is not easy to conjecture the date
at which these iron mines can have been worked. There is no reason
to believe that any Moorish ruler ever attempted to turn them to
account; and although the Portuguese once built a small fort near
Mogador, it does not seem probable that they ever held control
over the adjoining country. As to the long interval between the
establishment of Roman power in North Marocco and the disappearance
of Roman civilisation after the Saracen conquest history is silent,
and it would be as unsafe to assert as to deny that the workings of
Djebel Hadid are to be referred to that epoch. The only apparent
alternative is to attribute them to a still more remote period,
when Carthaginian colonies flourished on the coast.
In connection with this subject it is curious to remark that Leo
Africanus, in his account of the hilly range of the Djebel Hadid,
makes no allusion to the working of the mines there, although his
work contains frequent reference to the extraction of metals, not
excepting iron, from mines in the Great Atlas. In his day the Djebel
Hadid seems to have had a rather numerous population of Bereber
stock. He describes them as of gentle and inoffensive manners, who
expelled from among them men guilty of robbery and violence. They
had been much molested by the Arabs of the neighbouring plains,
and had agreed to purchase tranquillity by the payment of black
mail in the form of tribute, when the reigning Sultan, whose policy
it was to protect and favour the Bereber population, despatched a
military force (which Leo Africanus himself accompanied), brought
the Arabs to order, and relieved the Berebers from tribute. At
the present day the Shelluh stock has apparently disappeared from
this part of the country, being either driven away, or absorbed by
inter-marriage into the surrounding Arab population.
A young man, the son of one of the wealthiest Jews in Mogador,
had been invited by Mr. Carstensen to accompany him in this
excursion. He was absolutely ignorant of the country beyond what
he may have learned in a daily canter over the sands at Mogador,
and was far less fitted for rough life than the majority of English
young ladies of the upper class. Everything in tent life seemed to
him strange and rather terrible. In the course of conversation over
the evening cigar it came out that he had never seen a scorpion;
whereupon, by order from Mr. Carstensen, a corner of the carpet
within the tent was turned up, and a scorpion-hole speedily
found. When the ugly creature was dug out of his hole and produced
to the company, the genuine consternation and disgust of our young
friend were irresistibly ludicrous. We afterwards heard that he
passed a miserable night, in constant terror of encountering the
enemy, and on the next day returned to the paternal home, whence
he will not again be easily lured.
The natives show no especial dislike for reptiles, excepting
poisonous snakes, which, in spite of reports to the contrary, must
be rare. We heard so much of them, and especially of the _Cerastes_
(_El Efah_ of the Moors)—popularly called the ‘two minutes’
snake,’ because a person bitten is supposed to survive so
long—that at first we always carried about us a bottle of liquid
ammonia, as the best, though very uncertain, antidote. But when
we failed to see a single specimen, and were assured that they are
found only on the coast, we gradually laid all precautions aside,
and thought no more of serpents than we should have done in Europe.
About this time we discovered that one of our escort had a decided
taste for reptiles, which we might have turned to account, if we had
known of it, by getting him to collect specimens. He was a tall,
lanky man, with a prominent nose, whom we had nicknamed, from his
peculiar personal appearance, ‘Don Quixote,’ but whose real
name was Sherrif Mouley Mohammed. He had captured several toads
and lizards, which he carried about with him, and showed another
trait of originality in being the only one of our native followers
who willingly drank coffee.
The morning of June 2 was brilliantly fine, and the sun remained
unclouded throughout the day, although the heat was at no time
oppressive. At 9.30 A.M. we started for the ascent of the Djebel
Hadid, directing our course towards a hollow in the face of the
hill, for the most part thickly clothed with bushes, but showing
here and there outcropping escarpments of rock that promised a more
varied vegetation than the otherwise uniform stony slopes. We at
once found that, in comparison with the outer slopes of the Atlas,
we had entered into a region botanically new to us. The evergreen oak
had disappeared, and the Arbutus, though seen near Aïn el Hadjar,
was evidently rare. The _Callitris_, which is abundant near the
base of the hill, does not ascend on its flanks, and _Juniperus
phœnicea_ was either altogether absent or very rare. In the place
of all these there was an extraordinary abundance and variety of
spiny bushes, such as made the day’s excursion severely remembered
by the destruction of our garments and the multitude of pricks and
scratches with which our bodies were covered. _Rhus oxyacantha_
and _R. pentaphylla_, _Celastrus senegalensis_ and the wild olive,
with _Genista ferox_ and _G. tridens_, were our chief tormentors,
all, except the olive, characteristic North African species, though
two or three of them have been detected in Southern Spain or in
Sicily. Leaving our horses to be led up the slope, we had hot work
in climbing the hill under a sun only a few degrees from the zenith,
contending the while with the various thorns and hooks and prickles
that molested us on every side. Every forward movement would be
resisted by a dozen spines running deep into our legs or arms, and
each attempt to draw back by the strong hooks with which some part
of our dress was sure to be held fast. When we reached the top of
the acclivity we found ourselves on the verge of a very extensive
plateau, in some parts nearly dead level, in others undulating,
and rising into knolls of tolerably uniform height. Before long we
reached a point commanding a wide view over the country on the north
side of the range of hills. The slopes below us appeared to be under
cultivation, and suggested the presence of a numerous population;
but the distant plain of Akermout, lying somewhat east of due north,
did not to our eyes afford any sign of cultivation. Jackson gives
a view[3] of the Djebel Hadid as seen from the plain of Akermout,
with a ruined town in the foreground, which he declares to have
been utterly destroyed by the plague about the middle of the last
century. The ruins, which have been seen by other travellers,
being about 30 miles distant from Mogador and fully 15 from the
point where we stood, were naturally not perceived by us.
Along the range of these hills are many saints’ tombs, usually
standing on some prominent point above the general level of the
plateau. One of these was on a slight eminence somewhat higher than
that first reached by us. Our escort, on this occasion limited to
three soldiers, displayed great anxiety lest we should attempt to
enter the _zaouia_, doubtless believing that our presence would
profane the sanctity of the spot.
We strained our eyes to make out as much as possible of the Great
Atlas range from the vantage ground we had now attained; but the
air was hazy towards the southern horizon. A faint outline was,
indeed, distinctly traceable, and was sketched by Ball, but no
details of any kind could be distinguished.
We estimated the height of the hilly range, where we ascended it,
at about 1,500 feet above our camp at Aïn el Hadjar, which we had
found to be 504 feet above the sea-level. It is not likely that
any part of the Djebel Hadid much exceeds the limit of 2,000 feet
above the sea, but, in a range fully 25 miles in length, it is not
possible to compare altitudes accurately by the eye.
The _Cistus_ tribe was the chief ornament of the vegetation
here; and it was interesting to observe that the species were
to a great extent different from those that abound in the
inland districts and on the lower slopes of the Atlas. _Cistus
salviæfolius_ and _C. polymorphus_, both variable species,
are common to this and the Atlas, although, strange to say, the
latter widely-spread Mediterranean species has not been found in
North Marocco. _Helianthemum virgatum_, hitherto seen everywhere
on dry stony ground, was here wanting, as were _H. niloticum_ and
the less common _H. glaucum_ and _H. rubellum_. In their places
the top of the hill was in some places quite covered by large
bushes of _H. halimifolium_ and _H. lavandulæfolium_, both laden
with masses of bright yellow flowers. On the slopes we also found
_H. canariense_, one of the very few species, not strictly confined
to the coast, that are exclusively limited to the Canary Islands and
South Marocco. Another rare species of the same genus, now first
seen by us, was _H. Lippii_. This seems to have been originally
a desert plant, the sole representative of the genus in the arid
regions of Beloochistan, South Persia, and the Arabian desert,
whence it has spread westward through Egypt to the skirts of the
Sahara. Beyond its natural home, it has been found here and there,
but rarely in Syria, Asia Minor, Sicily, and South-western Marocco,
and may not improbably be detected in South-eastern Spain.
Growing among the bushes on the upper part of the hill we found,
in some abundance, the wild spiny form of the cultivated artichoke;
whether truly indigenous, or carried hither by former inhabitants,
it was impossible to decide.
On returning to our camp, some time before sunset, we found
that Mr. Carstensen had received letters from Europe that bore
intelligence of the terrible scenes enacted in Paris during the last
days of the Commune and the final suppression of the insurrection. As
was but natural, this completely engrossed our thoughts and our
conversation during the evening. It was depressing to think that
in the midst of the so-called advanced civilisation of Europe,
to which we were now returning, ferocious passions, surpassing in
their destructiveness those of the barbarian or the mere savage,
may lie concealed until some unexpected shock causes their explosion.
The night was even cooler than the preceding one, and to our surprise
the thermometer, about a quarter of an hour after sunrise on June 3,
marked only 56° F. We employed a couple of hours in the morning in
rambling about the gardens and irrigated ground near the springs,
without adding much of interest to our collections, and at about
8 P.M. started for Mogador.
For some distance the country was well wooded. Orchards and olive
groves did not extend much beyond the bounds of the irrigated
tract; the _Callitris_ then became predominant, intermixed, here
and there, with scattered Argan trees. In open spots the two showy
species of _Helianthemum_ seen the day before, _H. halimifolium_ and
_H. lavandulæfolium_, were still in full flower, and we gathered,
for the first time, a charming little _Eryngium_ (_E. tenue_)
with extremely delicate spiny leaves and involucre. Mediterranean
shrubs, such as the _Arbutus_ and _Phillyrea_, growing along with
such local forms as _Rhus oxyacantha_, _Statice mucronata_, and
_Bupleurum canescens_, would have sufficiently informed a botanist
that he was approaching the Atlantic coast of North Africa.
We soon after crossed a belt of land showing marks of former
cultivation, where no dwellings were in sight, but where we
passed close to a considerable group of earthy mounds, partly
overgrown by vegetation, and showing here and there the remains of
massive walls of _tapia_ that had partially resisted the process
of destruction. These ruins marked the site of the large _kasbah_
of a former Governor. According to the custom of the country this
had been pillaged and destroyed some thirty years before, when the
owner fell from power. The traces of man’s former presence were
speedily lost as we entered on a tract of rocky ground, where the
tertiary calcareous rock lay in horizontal beds, slightly excavated
in places by watercourses, and cut into irregular steps. The
increasing prevalence of blown sand now gave warning of a nearer
approach to the shore; the distant roar of the ceaseless Atlantic
breakers fell distinctly on the ear; amid the increasing masses
of sand vegetation became more and more sparse; we rode on amidst
undulating dunes of sand until, at length, on reaching the summit
of one of the ridges, the blue Atlantic lay before us.
With mingled feelings we cast our eyes on the waters that were
so soon to carry us back within the accustomed round of civilised
existence. If the prospect before us were in many ways most welcome,
there was yet some inevitable regret at the termination of a
journey so full of interest, and, in spite of trifling drawbacks,
so full of enjoyment. We felt that the time at our disposal had
been too limited, and that what we had accomplished in the way
of exploration fell far short of what we had expected; but enough
had been done to reward us amply for the labour expended, and we
indulged, as almost all genuine travellers are wont to do, in the
hope of returning again to the country we were now about to leave.
We had reached the shore at a point about five miles north of
Mogador, which, however, was concealed from view by the lofty sand
dunes that have accumulated on the reef of rocks that stretches
out seaward on the north side of the town. For more than half the
distance we rode along the flat beach, where the sand gave somewhat
firmer footing than it did above high water mark. Our soldiers took
the opportunity for celebrating the prosperous termination of our
journey by an exhibition of ‘powder-play,’ for which the ground
was admirably adapted. Starting together, but not attempting to
keep line, they urge their horses to their fastest gallop; while
at full speed they discharge their long guns at an imaginary foe,
fling the gun up in the air, and catch it again; and finally the
horse is stopped short, and thrown upon his haunches, by the sudden
pressure of the severe bit used in this country.
To avoid a long detour our course to Mogador lay over the high
sand dunes that encompass the town on the land side. The forms
into which the sand is fashioned by the wind here attracted our
attention. In many places the appearances were exactly those that
are found in the higher region of the Alps immediately after a fall
of fresh snow, and in truth the phenomena are nearly identical. At
a temperature considerably below freezing point snow commonly falls
in the condition of fine grains that do not cohere when they meet,
and, in a mechanical sense, differ from those of sand only by being
lighter. Our observations on the relation between the form of the
larger ridges and the smaller ripple marks, and the direction of
the wind, quite agree with those published by Maw.[4]
When at length we escaped from the maze of ridges and hollows,
and stood upon the brow of the last sandy eminence, rather before
2 P.M., we found ourselves unexpectedly near to our journey’s
end. The town of Mogador, backed by the island, with a few small
coasting vessels lying in the channel between them, presented to our
unaccustomed eyes an almost imposing aspect. As usual, one of the
soldiers had ridden ahead to announce our approach; and when, after
passing by the Christian burial-ground, we drew near to the walls,
crowds of people came out to meet us, and to gaze upon the strangers,
of whose adventures in the Great Atlas fanciful reports had gone
abroad. At the gate several mounted soldiers, sent by the Governor
as a guard of honour, joined the procession; and thus heralded,
with all due state, we made our solemn entry into Mogador, and,
along with our kind host, rode directly to the British Consulate.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1:
Τούτων δὲ καθύπερθεν Αἰθίοπες ᾤκουν
ἄξενοι γῆν νεμόμενοι θηριώδη, διειλημμένην
ἴ ρεσι μεγάλοις, ἐξ ὧν ῥεῖν φασι τὸν
Αίξον, περὶ δὲ τὰ ὄρη κατοικεῖν ἀνθρώπους
ἀλλοιομόρφους, Τρωγλοδύτας· οὓς
ταχυτέρους ἵππων ἐν δρόμοις
ἔφραζον οἱ Αιξίται.
Hanno ‘Periplus,’ 7. Text of C. Müller.
Contrary to the opinion of most commentators, we are disposed to
think that the river Lixus of Hanno is the Sous. The description,
‘a large river of Libya, said to flow from the great mountains,’
must refer either to the Sous or the Draha; but it is not likely
that at any period there can have been a considerable population
about the mouth of the Draha, as there evidently was at the place
commemorated by Hanno.]
[Footnote 2: M. Balansa gives for the height in round numbers 1,100
metres, or 3,609 English feet.]
[Footnote 3: Like the other illustrations in Jackson’s work, this
must be derived from a very imperfect sketch, or else much altered
by the fancy of the draftsman. In this the great city shown in the
background is a mere fiction of the imagination.]
[Footnote 4: See _Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society_,
vol. xxviii. p. 88.]
CHAPTER XIII.
Second stay at Mogador — Plants obtained through native collectors
— Outrage committed by the Haha people — Story of the troubles
in Haha — Farewell presents to our servants and escort — An
unpunctual tradesman corrected — Exports from Mogador — Caravans
from Timbuktou — Jewish wedding — Voyage in the _Lady Havelock_
— Land at Saffi — Excursion ashore — Land at Mazagan —
Return to Tangier, and thence to England.
However pleasant were our recollections of the rough life we
had been leading for the past five weeks, we could not fail to
appreciate the physical comfort involved in a return to the habits
of civilised life at Mogador. A chair to sit upon, a table at which
to eat one’s meals, a hundred other things to which daily use
makes us quite insensible and indifferent, become luxuries to one
who has for some time been deprived of them.
We had no lack of occupation during the four days of our stay at
Mogador. The large harvest of dried plants collected during our
journey had to be put in order and safely packed for conveyance to
England. It had been our prime object to obtain as far as possible a
complete representation of the Flora of the territory which we had
been able to explore; and for that purpose we had made it a point
to carry away a specimen, or at least a fragment, of every species,
even the commonest, from each district that we traversed. In this
way our collections represent, not merely the constituents of the
South Marocco flora, but, to a great extent, the distribution of
the several species. Besides attending to this, our main object,
we did not fail to collect duplicates of most of the new and rare
species seen during our journey for distribution to the chief public
herbaria, and to the botanists who have illustrated the flora
of the Mediterranean region. To avoid chances of future error,
it was necessary to give much care to the labelling and packing
of our collections, which we could not expect to see again until
some time after our return to England. Fortunately our specimens
were nearly all quite dry, and in excellent condition; and we had
not to complain of the moist condition of the air which had given
us so much trouble during our first stay on the coast. The cool
breezes from the N. and NE., which make the climate of this region
so agreeable and healthful in summer, now steadily prevailed. The
air at this season is relatively dry and free from haze, and, as a
consequence, the daily range of the thermometer is greater than at
any other season. Yet, as compared with any other place we know,
the extremes are singularly moderate, and never exceed the limits
conducive to full health and enjoyment. The thermometer, observed
pretty frequently by night as well as by day, only twice rose during
our stay to 77° F. At about 3 A.M. it usually fell to 63° F.,
and on one occasion to 61°.
On our return we found awaiting us a small addition to our Marocco
herbarium. With the kind assistance of Mr. Carstensen, we had
arranged during our first visit that two natives, who had received
a first lesson in the art of drying plants, should start for Agadir
early in May, and should bring back whatever plants they could then
find in flower. The collection, which we now shared between us, was
not of much importance, including, as it did, but a single species
not found by us. We doubted, at the time whether the men had, as
they solemnly asserted, really reached the neighbourhood of Agadir;
but we have now reason to believe that the vegetation of the coast
region from Mogador southward to about the twenty-ninth parallel
of latitude is very uniform.
Since our return from Marocco our friend M. Cosson, with the active
assistance of the late M. Beaumier, has succeeded in engaging the
services of two native collectors, one of them a very intelligent
Jew, the other a Shelluh mountaineer. From the former large
collections from the country as far south as the borders of Oued
Noun, and as far east as the oasis of Akka, have been sent to Paris;
and the latter has contributed a few additions to the flora of the
Great Atlas, along with many of the species collected by us. With
his accustomed liberality, M. Cosson has sent us duplicates of
these fresh contributions to the flora of Marocco.
In the afternoon of June 4, we went to pay a farewell visit to
the banks of the Oued Kseb, which had been the scene of our first
botanical excursion in South Marocco. During the interval of
six weeks a great change had passed over the vegetation; most of
the annuals were completely dried up and had disappeared; but the
excursion was not altogether unproductive, and we were able to add
a few plants to our collections.
There remained a point of some botanical interest, which it was
very desirable to clear up before our departure. The curious
cactoïd _Euphorbia_, producing the Gum Euphorbium,[1] written of
by Dioscorides and Pliny, grows in the interior provinces of South
Marocco. The only modern writer who has given an account of it is
Jackson,[2] who, though no botanist, was a careful and conscientious
observer. In his account of the plant, and the accompanying plate,
we had been struck by some apparent discrepancies. The gum, as
he says, is obtained from the plant growing on the lower region
of the Atlas; but the same plant is, according to him, abundant
about Agadir, and is carried thence to Mogador for the use of
the tanners. The Agadir plant, however, he declares to produce no
gum. Further than this, in the plate annexed to his description,
the left-hand figure, giving a view of the whole plant on a reduced
scale, shows the thick fleshy branches, with four angles, as we had
seen them in the specimen given to Hooker by the Kaïd at Mesfioua;
while the right-hand figure, showing a fragment of the natural size,
represents the end of a branch, with numerous (about ten) projecting
fleshy ribs, beset with spines. Hooker came to the conclusion that
there were possibly two quite distinct plants known to Jackson, and
on returning to Mogador he proceeded to make inquiry on the subject.
Before long a native was brought to us who appeared to be well
acquainted with the Agadir plant, and who declared that it grows in
abundance about half-way between that place and Mogador. Upon this
Hooker became anxious to start at once for the purpose of personally
examining the suspected plant, and securing live specimens for
Kew. To this Mr. Carstensen felt it necessary to object. Matters,
as he informed us, had been getting from bad to worse in the great
province of Haha, which includes the whole sea-board between Mogador
and Agadir. Between the discontent caused by repeated acts of
unprovoked cruelty on the part of the Governor, and the results of
the war still proceeding between him and his neighbours in Mtouga,
the province had lapsed into a complete state of anarchy, and a
European attempting to travel at such a time would be exposed to
serious risk. It was reluctantly agreed by Hooker that our native
informant, with a companion, should depart for the spot, which
he professed to know, charged with the commission to bring back a
donkey-load of specimens of the living plant.
June 5 was a day of some anxiety in Mogador, and the news which we
received at breakfast brought full confirmation of Mr. Carstensen’s
apprehensions as to the disturbed state of the country. We had
already noticed that the camel-drivers arriving from Marocco, or
other places in the interior, are used, after discharging their goods
in the town, to litter their camels outside the wall at a place close
to the eastern gate. We now heard that during the preceding night
a party of marauders from Haha had pushed their audacity so far as
to attack and kill a camel-driver sleeping at the foot of the city
wall, and drive off seven camels that were in his charge. Whether
the guard at the gate close at hand slept soundly through the scene,
or had their own reasons for non-interference, we failed to learn.
This was one of a series of incidents that was not completed until
after our return to England; but as we were so directly concerned
in the results of the disturbances in Haha, and as we learned the
particulars in an authentic way from Mr. Carstensen, who had daily
intercourse with eye-witnesses and actors in the drama, it is as
well here to give the story as we learned it.
The Governor of Haha, the largest and most important province in the
empire, which long maintained its independence of the Sultan, had
hereditary claims to the government of the twelve cognate Shelluh
tribes who make up the population. Although miserably fallen away
from its ancient prosperity—in the time of Leo Africanus there
were six or seven populous towns and several fortified places,
where there is now nothing better than a village—the province
still furnishes much agricultural produce and live stock, and sends
hides, grain, oil, and other merchandise for exportation to the
port of Mogador. The Governor, at the time of our visit, had long
held his office; by liberal contributions to the Imperial treasury,
he had kept himself in the favour of the Sultan, while amassing for
himself vast wealth; and, according to the testimony of the French
naturalist, M. Balansa, confirmed by the consuls who had visited
him, he showed an appreciation of the advantages of civilised life,
and a desire to maintain friendly relations with Europeans.
Thus wealthy, powerful, and feared, this man might have maintained
his authority unbroken, but that by a continuous course of oppression
and cruelty he at length stirred up the spirit of resistance
amongst his own people. Vengeance, however atrocious, for acts of
revolt is so fully an admitted right of men in authority in Marocco
that it did not seem to count for much in the indictment against
him that on one occasion he inflicted on several hundred—some
said a thousand—insurgent prisoners the horrible punishment of
the _‘leather glove.’_ A lump of quicklime is placed in the
victim’s open palm, the hand is closed over it, and bound fast with
a piece of raw hide. The other hand is fastened with a chain behind
the back, while the bound fist is plunged into water. When, on the
ninth day, the wretched man has the remaining hand set free, it is
to find himself a mutilated object for life, unless mortification
has set in, and death relieves him from further suffering. But,
in addition to such acts as these, the Kaïd of Haha was accused of
capricious deeds of ferocity that revolted the consciences of his
people. Among other stories of the kind, we were told that on some
occasion when he was having a wall made round his garden, he happened
to see a young man jump over the low unfinished fence. Feeling in
some way annoyed at this, he had the unfortunate boy’s right foot
struck off, as a lesson not to repeat the experiment.
In such a country, where the danger of revolt is so terrible, the
discontent among the people of Haha might long have slumbered,
but for the occasion given by the war with the neighbouring
province of Mtouga. The spirit of resistance spread rapidly,
and it soon become apparent that the position of the old Kaïd
was becoming untenable. At last he resolved upon flight, after
previously securing the aid and protection of his neighbour, the
Governor of Shedma. Departing at night, with a train of women and
slaves, and with twenty-two mules laden with treasure, he reached
by daylight the borders of Shedma, just in time to forestall pursuit
from his outraged subjects. He escaped unharmed—although a bullet
intended for him by the pursuers struck in the hand his protector,
the Governor of Shedma—and continued his journey to the city of
Marocco. On reaching the capital, he at once placed himself under
the protection of the Viceroy,[3] and judiciously sacrificed half of
his wealth as an offering to the imperial treasury. He was received
with favour; a handsome house was assigned to him as a residence;
and for anything we know to the contrary, he may be still enjoying,
what is seldom granted to a high functionary in Marocco, a tranquil
old age.
When the flight of the Governor was noised abroad in Haha, the
people of the country proceeded, according to custom, to pillage
and destroy the castle of their oppressor. Among other things
brought to light were two skeletons built into the wall of one of
the inner chambers. The Kaïd had two nephews, who were, or might
have become, dangerous rivals, and it was in this way that he had
disposed of them.
Among the stores found in the _kasbah_ were several large earthen
jars of butter, and others of honey, and these furnished forth
a feast for the unbidden guests. The Kaïd was a thoughtful man,
and even in the hurry of his departure he had not forgotten his
disobedient subjects. The feast was not well over when the effects
began to be apparent, and a large number of those who partook of
it died in agony. The Kaïd had mixed a large quantity of arsenic
with the delicacies which he had been forced to leave behind him.
Meanwhile, as we had seen, the relations between the
people of Mogador and their neighbours had become very
unsatisfactory. Indignant at the outrage committed before our
departure, the Governor of Mogador thought it necessary to show
his strength and enforce respect. He accordingly despatched 200
men, under the command of our old friend Kaïd el Hadj, to demand
satisfaction for what had happened, and security for better conduct
in the future. The result was exactly what might have been expected
from the pious, but decidedly unwarlike, character of the leader. The
Haha people explained to El Hadj that they were more than a match
for him and his men, and that his wisest course was to return by
the shortest road to Mogador. The mind of the commander was always
open to prudent counsel, and he professed himself convinced; and
to save him and his men from trouble by the way they were escorted
to the gates of Mogador by ten men from Haha.
Policy, however, soon effected what valour had failed to achieve. A
virtual blockade was established, and all communication with Haha
suspended. This may have been inconvenient to the Mogador people;
but, at the worst, they could always obtain supplies from Shedma
by the road which we had followed from Aïn el Hadjar. To the
Haha people it soon became intolerable. Mogador is their chief
market. There they sell their provisions, and it is the Mogador
merchants who purchase their oil and hides and other exports. An
envoy was sent to re-establish friendly relations, and to entreat
the foreign Consuls to mediate in their favour. In token of entire
submission, they proposed that 2,000 men from the province should
come to make a peace-offering. The Governor judiciously thought that
number excessive—there was no knowing what these wild hill people
might do, if they fancied themselves masters of the town—and agreed
to receive a deputation of 200 representatives of the Haha tribes. On
the appointed day they came, driving before them several bullocks;
and, on arriving before the Sultan’s palace, proceeded to hamstring
and slaughter them as a propitiatory offering to the sovereign
authority, whereupon friendly relations were at once re-established.
While these events were undeveloped, the thoughts of the Mogador
people, European as well as native, were fully exercised, although
they felt secure from positive danger. A part of the day was
occupied by us in taking leave of our escort and attendants, and in
distributing among them presents and rewards, well earned by some,
and which could not be refused even to the less deserving. A great
change had come over the appearance of many of our men since their
return. Ambak and Hamed, who had made the journey on foot, with
none but the scantiest and the poorest clothing, now appeared fresh
from the bath and dressed in their best: Hamed looking especially
dignified in a snow-white turban, and formidable-looking dagger
stuck in his girdle. All seemed pleased and satisfied with the
very moderate sums awarded them—to which in the case of the
more deserving were added knives and other articles of English
cutlery. The soldiers who had travelled all the way from Mogador
received eight dollars (40 francs) each, while to the Marocco men
were given five dollars each.
When the rest were disposed of, there remained the two
officers. Towards Kaïd el Hadj, who had always maintained a friendly
and respectful bearing, we had none but kindly feelings. When,
in addition to the present of twelve dollars, Hooker handed him
a silver watch, a large sheath-knife, and a few smaller presents,
the old man was quite overcome; his eyes were filled with tears;
and he took leave of us with many pious wishes for our future
welfare. As regards El Hasbi the case was very different. He had
from the very day of our departure from Marocco done his utmost to
defeat our wishes and plans, and had not even the grace to veil his
opposition beneath a civil exterior. Hooker decided on writing a
letter to El Graoui, reporting our opinion of the conduct of his
subordinate, and sending this to the great man with a sum of ten
dollars, to be given to El Hasbi, or withheld, as he might decide.
The Haha troubles affected our pockets in an unexpected way. In
ordinary times there is a constant demand for baggage animals at
Mogador, and we were led to expect that we should sell at a profit
the mules that we had bought at Marocco. The usual price at Mogador
is from 8_l_. to 10_l_. for a serviceable beast. But in the present
state of the neighbouring country the roads were considered unsafe,
and traffic with the interior was almost completely stopped. We
were therefore considered rather fortunate in selling our team of
mules at about 5_l_. apiece.
In the course of the day we had a fresh illustration of native
manners that somewhat amused us, for we were no longer in the
frame of mind in which a slight abuse of authority could shock our
European ideas. The Mogador brass-workers have a high reputation
throughout Marocco, and during our first stay in the town we had
ordered a variety of articles from the man who was considered
the most skilful in his craft. The time fixed for delivering the
goods was fully a week before the actual date of our return. When
Mr. Carstensen heard that the order had not been executed at the
appointed time, he sent a message informing the Governor of the
fact; and the latter forthwith had the man thrown into prison,
and appointed a soldier to keep guard, and see that he did no other
work than that promised to us. After two or three days the prisoner
got some friend to intercede with Mr. Carstensen for his release,
and at the instance of the latter the Governor relented. To-day
the articles were all duly brought to the Consulate, and the maker
seemed well content with the very moderate payment agreed upon.
We should have gladly made our return voyage in the comfortable
steamer _Verité_, that had carried us from Tangier, but the date
of her arrival on her return from the Canary Islands to Marseilles
was uncertain. Meanwhile the _Lady Havelock_ steamer, plying between
the Marocco coast and London, had reached Mogador, and we resolved
to take our passage by that conveyance to Tangier.
Farewell visits and the packing of our collections occupied the
greater part of the day on June 6. At the wharf the port labourers
were busy in shipping large bales of esparto grass, which chiefly
comes from the adjoining province of Haha. This is now largely
consumed by paper-makers in France and England. It is said that
the greater part of what reaches England from Marocco is used in
the paper-mills that supply the ‘Times’ newspaper.
A caravan had lately reached Mogador from the Soudan, and we saw
several bales of ostrich feathers lying on the wharf. They were
imperfectly covered with coarse sacking; and the outer layer of
feathers, soiled and broken, seemed to be quite worthless, although
the total value of such a bale must be very considerable. Some trade
routes in Central Asia and elsewhere in the world involve terrible
hardships to those engaged in the transport; but it seems that there
is none nearly so formidable as that from Timbuktou to Marocco. In
several directions the way across the Great Desert is facilitated
by the occurrence of oases at moderate intervals; as in the way from
Tafilelt to Touat, and in the line followed by the Arab traders from
Tripoli to Murzouk. But throughout the greater part of the way from
Timbuktou to Akka there appear to be no true oases. Wells are few
and far between, and the supply of water often miserably scanty;
and even when a caravan escapes all the dangers of the long way,
and the bones of men and camels are not left to bleach upon the
burning-sands, the sufferings of the travellers must reach the
verge of human endurance.[4] At the present day the regular caravans
no longer attempt to reach Marocco or Fez by way of Tafilelt, the
routes over the Atlas being too insecure. The bad reputation of the
Oued Noun people is equally effectual in closing the coast route
from the south to Mogador; and the course adopted is by the oasis
of Akka, lying south of the Anti-Atlas range, and about 100 miles
east of Oued Noun. From Akka to Agadir the way rounds the western
extremity of Anti-Atlas, through a hilly and populous country,
which appears to be safe enough for any but Christian travellers.
Among other articles exported from Mogador is the brown gum arabic
of commerce, which comes chiefly from Demnet, and elsewhere on the
skirts of the Atlas east of Marocco. If native testimony is to be
credited, the _Acacia_ producing this gum is not different from that
which we saw growing abundantly in Haha and elsewhere through the
hilly country,[5] though we did not hear of any gum being exported
from the western provinces. It seems unlikely that this plant,
named by Willdenow _Acacia gummifera_, should be the only one of
a group of allied species extending across Northern Africa that
produces no gum. We were interested in finding that the parcel
shown to us, sent for export from Mogador, was packed in the dry
stems and leaves of a _Ceratophyllum_, a genus of aquatic plants
not hitherto seen in Marocco.
During the afternoon the two natives who were despatched two days
before returned safely from Haha, driving before them a donkey
laden with the Agadir _Euphorbia_. Hooker’s suspicion was at
once verified. The plant of the coast region is quite different
from the gum-producing species of the inland region, but in
appearance it comes near the East Indian species, _E. officinarum_
of Linnæus. Under the name _E. Beaumieriana_, the coast plant,
which has yet not been collected in flower or fruit, along with
_E. resinifera_ from Demnet, and another new species brought by
a native collector from the southern borders of Sous, has been
carefully described by our friend M. Cosson.
In the course of the evening we went by invitation to a Jewish
wedding, which was celebrated in the house of one of the chief
Israelite families in the town. The proceedings were quite
in accordance with the descriptions given by other travellers
in Marocco. The bride, who sat cross-legged, arrayed in gorgeous
attire, had regular features and large dark eyes, but seemed dazed
and stupified by the crowd, the noise, the glare of many lights,
and the heat of the close rooms, from which we were not sorry soon
to escape.
On June 7 the time for our departure arrived, and towards sunset we
went on board the _Lady Havelock_, accompanied by our kind host,
Mr. Carstensen, and by the late Mr. Grace, the representative of
one of the chief English mercantile houses engaged in the Marocco
trade, to whom we were indebted for numerous marks of attention
during our stay in South Marocco.
We found in Captain Bone, who commanded the _Lady Havelock_, an
old acquaintance; for it was in this steamer that, on our first
arrival, we crossed the Straits from Gibraltar to Tangier. He had
warned us not to expect much good from Marocco or the Moors, and
was always well pleased when in the course of conversation he was
able to extract any facts to confirm his unfavourable prepossessions.
The north wind had been blowing freshly all day, but, as usual, it
fell at nightfall. The moment for heaving the anchor had arrived;
we took leave of our Mogador friends, and soon found ourselves once
more gently rolling on the broad Atlantic waves.
On the morning of June 8 we were before Saffi. Mr. Hunot, the
British Vice-Consul, soon came on board, and we gladly accepted his
courteous invitation to spend the day ashore. Through his brother,
who had so kindly assisted us during our diplomatic struggle with
the authorities in the city of Marocco, Mr. Hunot already knew
of our journey in the interior, and kindly interested himself in
forwarding our wish to make the best use of our time at Saffi. This
place is considered to be much hotter in summer than Mogador; yet,
during an excursion of several hours, we found the heat much less
oppressive than it commonly is at the same season on the shores of
the Mediterranean.
The form of the land here at once dictated the best course to
be taken by a party of naturalists. On the north side a range of
lofty, almost vertical cliffs rises from the sea beach, and leaves
no space for any but a few marine plants. On the landward side of
the town the hills show gentle slopes, in great part under tillage,
and bare of trees. Along the shore southward the coastline is formed
by reefs of friable tertiary rock, rising from thirty to fifty feet
above the water’s edge, and forming a shelf of level land, in
great part overgrown with shrubs and small bushes. On the landward
side the hills rise at first with a gentle slope, and then more
steeply, until, about four miles from the town, they show a steep
escarpment of limestone rock, locally known as the Jews’ Cliff,
and this was fixed upon as the limit of our excursion.
Mr. Hunot, who had accompanied us, had kindly provided horses
for our use; but we found so many objects to interest us that the
greater part of the way was made on foot.
We had not gone far along the sea rocks when we found them
plentifully covered with a species of _Zygophyllum_ altogether new
to us. Though evidently allied to the _Z. album_, so common in Egypt
and elsewhere in North Africa, this differed at first sight in the
much greater size of the thick succulent branches and leaves. It
turned out to be the _Z. Fontanesii_ of Webb, a plant hitherto
known only in the Canary Islands. Another characteristic plant of
those islands was _Helianthemum canariense_; but this had already
been found by us near Aïn el Hadjar.
When we reached the foot of the Jews’ Cliff, which rises some
300 feet above the shelf of land at its seaward base, we resolved
to divide our forces. From fragments already picked up, and from
Mr. Hunot’s information, we were led to think that some of the
exposed beds of limestone must abound in fossils. Hooker resolved
to make a search; and, with Mr. Hunot, ascended the face of the
cliff, which is easy enough of access, and ultimately reached the
top. He was rewarded by getting good specimens of several fossils,
the most abundant being Echinoderms of a new type, since described
by Mr. Etheridge in the ‘Quarterly Journal of the Geological
Society.’[6]
Ball meanwhile was engaged in botanising on the sea rocks and
among the bushes at the foot of the cliff. In the former habitat
he found two species heretofore known only at Mogador, _Andryala
mogadorensis_ and _Frankenia velutina_. Among the bushes there
were no plants of special interest, but he nevertheless had an
unexpected encounter. While searching about among the bushes
a rustling in the dry grass caught his ear; he looked down,
and there, within a yard of his feet, was _el efah_, the dreaded
‘two minutes’ snake,’ nearly as thick and about as long as
a man’s arm. As the enemy was retreating, gliding gently among
the bushes, there was no occasion to move, and he watched it for
a few seconds till it disappeared. The glistening scales were of
many colours, forming a sort of mosaic on a ground of pale brown,
very much as represented in the plate to Jackson’s ‘Account
of Marocco.’ Even supposing that the virulence of the poison in
the bite of this snake has not been exaggerated by popular report,
it can scarcely be thought formidable to strangers unless they
happen to be botanists. It keeps habitually to the cover afforded
by the numerous small bushes of the coast region, and its form is
so ill fitted for active motion that it can only strike a near
object. The only danger arises from the chance of inadvertently
hurting it while moving about in the places which it frequents.
About 4 P.M. we returned to dine at the British Consulate. At
Mr. Hunot’s table we met Mr. Jordan, the son of a British merchant
engaged in the Marocco trade. He had been brought up in the country,
spoke Moorish-Arabic familiarly, was used to dress as a Moor, and had
established intimate relations with many of the natives. Emboldened
by custom, he had on one occasion joined a party of Moorish merchants
bound for Tarudant in Sous, and safely reached that place. Something,
however, either in his appearance, or accent, or gesture excited
suspicion; it was noised abroad that a Christian was in the town,
and an excited crowd soon gathered round the house in which he and
his companions were lodged. As the demeanour of the people became
more and more threatening, the travellers barricaded the entrance,
and prepared to defend themselves by force. After some hours,
as evening was coming on, the assailants became more determined,
and proceeded to pile up faggots round the building with the
obvious intention of burning the house with its inmates. Just as
matters were looking very serious, the Governor of the town made
his appearance with a party of soldiers; the doors were opened,
and the Governor said to Mr. Jordan: ‘You have a horse, and you
have from this till to-morrow morning to put a wide space between
you and Tarudant; you had better lose no time.’ Protected by the
soldiers, the Englishman rode out of the city, and made his way
towards Agadir by night, thence returning safely to Mogador.
Tarudant was once a large and flourishing city, and its gardens
were famous throughout Marocco; but, like the rest of the country,
it has fallen off from its former condition, and is now a poor and
decaying place.
It is clear that in that part of the empire increasing religious
fanaticism has accompanied declining prosperity. In the sixteenth
century Tarudant was resorted to by English and French merchants,
and it was the seat of active trade, and of manufactures in copper
which was extracted from mines in the neighbouring chain of the
Great Atlas. The population was apparently then altogether of the
native Berber stock. In the course of the continued efforts made by
successive Sultans to establish their authority in the Sous province,
the Moorish element became more and more predominant in the towns,
and to this we may reasonably attribute their subsequent decline.
When Leo Africanus travelled in Sous, early in the sixteenth century,
Tarudant was only one of many large and flourishing towns, and was
much surpassed in importance by Tagavost, a place whose very name
has disappeared from memory, and whose exact site is unknown to
modern geographers.
Mr. Hunot, who is well acquainted with the city of Marocco, estimated
the population at about 40,000, but admitted that there were no
materials for an accurate guess on the subject. Fully one-fourth
of the inhabitants had been carried off by the last visitation of
cholera, from which the coast towns, with the sole exception of
Mogador, had also suffered severely.
The main check to population in the greater part of the empire
arises, however, from the recurrence of famines. These sometimes are
caused by locusts, but are then of a partial and local character; but
those consequent on the occasional failure of the winter and spring
rains are not very unfrequent, and are of terrible severity. Among
the means resorted to at such times for supporting life, we
learned that the roots of a small plant of the _Arum_ tribe are much
used. This, known to botanists as _Arisarum vulgare_, is very common
throughout North Africa, as well as in many parts of the south of
Europe. It flowers in this country in winter, and the leaves wither
and disappear in the spring. The root, which is not so large as an
ordinary walnut, contains, as is usual in the Aroid tribe, an acrid
juice, which makes it quite uneatable in the natural state. This,
however, is easily removed by frequent washing of the pounded roots,
and the residue is innoxious and nutritive. The same process has been
applied with success to the common European plant, _Arum maculatum_,
as well as to many exotic species of the same tribe.
Among the many difficulties that beset commercial intercourse with
Marocco, the frequent interruption of internal traffic arising
from frequent petty warfare between neighbouring tribes is not to
be forgotten. A merchant may purchase a quantity of produce at what
appears a remunerative price; but if he be unable to have it conveyed
within a convenient time to the port whence it is to be shipped, his
bargain may turn out a very bad one. At Mogador we had left things
in a condition foreboding a complete suspension of communication
with the interior; we now heard that owing to some local troubles
the coast road from Saffi to Mogador was temporarily closed.
At nightfall we returned to our steamer, but found that we were to
remain for the night in the roadstead of Saffi. On the next morning
our obliging host, Mr. Hunot, again came on board, and we enjoyed
his agreeable conversation until the time came for starting on the
short run to Mazagan. We reached that place in the afternoon of June
9, and landed with Captain Bone at a wharf beside the Castle built
by the Portuguese. It was proposed that we should go through the
town, and visit the great cistern which was constructed during the
prolonged Portuguese occupation of this place, and which enabled
them to resist successfully the frequent sieges undertaken by the
Moors. We preferred, however, to make use of the short time at our
disposal in examining the vegetation near the shore on the north
side of the town.
The net result of our short excursion was not very large or
brilliant; but, in the case of a country so little known as Marocco,
the interest of his collections to a naturalist does not mainly
depend on the rarity or novelty of the objects he may happen to
meet. Each plant or animal carried away contributes an item of
information respecting the distribution of the organised world, the
value of which it is impossible at the time to estimate. Travellers
who happen to visit little-known countries would do well to remember
that, with the most trifling expenditure of trouble, they may make
useful contributions to natural science by preserving specimens of
even the most insignificant-looking objects, provided always that
these are afterwards placed in the hands of competent naturalists.[7]
We returned on board about sunset, but did not leave the roads of
Mazagan till about 10 P.M. When we came on deck next morning, June
11, we were nearing the coast opposite Casa Blanca, and cast anchor
soon after 7 A.M. We here found the _Sydney Hall_, belonging to the
same owners as the _Lady Havelock_. She had left London on June 2,
reached Casa Blanca on the 10th, and soon after our arrival started
again on her outward voyage to Mogador and the Canary Islands. We
had the pleasure of again seeing Mr. Dupuis, the active British
Vice-Consul at Casa Blanca; but as our stay was to be short, and we
had already made an excursion ashore, we did not now attempt to land.
During our return voyage our minds were once more exercised by the
peculiar climatal conditions of this portion of the African coast. It
did not appear that the cool temperature which had prevailed since
our return to the neighbourhood of Mogador on the 1st inst. was
considered in any way remarkable or unusual, although travellers
who have visited the city of Marocco at this season speak of a
temperature of 90° F. in the shade as not uncommon; and at Fez,
though in the immediate vicinity of high mountains, still higher
temperatures have been recorded. The direction of the wind on the
coast in summer, which to the south of Cape Cautin is constantly
between the north and north-east, is less uniform to the north of
that limit; but the prevailing sign is NE., and this no doubt is
the most important factor in determining the climate.
There is, however, another element that cannot be overlooked. When
we examine the chart exhibiting the oceanic currents in the
North Atlantic, compiled at our Meteorological Office, and fix our
attention on the portion lying between the 30th and 40th degrees of
latitude, and extending from the coasts of Portugal and Marocco to
20° of west longitude, we find that the currents throughout this
large area constantly move in a direction between SE. and SSE., with
an average velocity which increases from about five miles per day
in the longitude of Madeira, to at least ten miles as we approach
within 100 miles of the shores of Europe and Africa. This velocity
again diminishes with a nearer approach to land; and, from a few
observations, it would seem that along the Marocco coast the current
is deflected in a SW. direction, parallel to that of the coast line.
It is clear that in this continual flow of cool water from the
north-west we have a cause which cannot fail to produce its effect
on the climate of the adjoining coasts. It would be a matter of
interest to ascertain how far the direction and velocity of the
ocean currents are modified by the prevailing winds, which here set
in nearly opposite directions in winter and in summer; but an answer
to such an inquiry will require much time, and the accumulation of
a large number of careful observations.
We completed our cargo by taking on board at Casa Blanca considerable
quantities of maize, beans, oil, goat-skins and wool; and our
captain resolved not to touch at Rabat, but to run direct to
Tangier. Eighteen hours under steam carried us past Cape Spartel,
and in the afternoon of June 12 we lay off Tangier.
Hooker’s numerous and pressing engagements in England made him
resolve to forego the pleasure of revisiting the neighbourhood of
Tangier, and comparing the summer vegetation with that which we
had admired two months before; he therefore determined to reach
Gibraltar as soon as possible, with the hope of there catching
the Peninsular and Oriental Mail Steamer for England. Ball could
not deny himself the opportunity for a full day’s botanising on
ground so attractive, and therefore removed his baggage ashore;
while Hooker returned on board the _Lady Havelock_, which was to
cross the Strait during the night.
On arriving at the Victoria Hotel, we learned that Sir J. D. Hay
had taken up his residence at his charming villa on the Djebel
Kebir, but we found awaiting us a kind note enclosing a welcome
packet of letters from England. After a hasty dinner at the hotel,
the time for parting came, and Hooker got out through the sea gate
just before it was closed for the night. The mail steamer had left
Gibraltar for England on the same day that we returned to Tangier;
but on the following morning Hooker found the steamship _Burmah_,
bound from Bombay to London, about to depart from Gibraltar, and
after a rather slow voyage he reached the Thames on the morning of
June 21.
Ball enjoyed a capital day’s plant-hunting at Tangier. The morning
was given to the sandy tract near the shore and the course of the
stream that passes by the east side of the town. This now made a much
more brilliant show than it had done in the month of April. Many
fine _Umbelliferæ_ and _Labiatæ_, then barely in leaf, were now
in full flower and fruit. Of these the queen was _Salvia bicolor_,
a magnificent species, usually four or five feet, but sometimes
eight or even ten feet high, much branched, with leaves of varied
form from twelve to eighteen inches long, and great interrupted
spikes of large blue and white flowers.
The slopes of the Djebel Kebir, which had been so brilliant in the
spring, had now lost their splendour. The gum cistus, the golden
_Genista_ and _Cytisus_, the heaths, and many other ornamental
species had long since shed their petals, and had been succeeded
by new comers, most of them with comparatively inconspicuous
flowers. For the botanist, however, the fruit is often more important
than the flower, and the afternoon was not long enough to collect
all the interesting species that presented themselves.
On June 14 Ball crossed the Strait from Tangier to Gibraltar in
the ordinary small steamer. While awaiting conveyance to England
he was detained three days, which were made short and agreeable by
the hospitality of Sir W. Fenwick Williams, then governor of the
fortress, and returned to England by a steamer bound from Calcutta
to London, _viâ_ the Suez Canal.
Our large collections reached England by the _Lady Havelock_,
which arrived only about the end of June, and these, as well as
the cases containing sundry purchases made in Marocco, were all in
good condition.[8]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: See Appendix D.]
[Footnote 2: Jackson, _Account of the Empire of Marocco_, p. 134,
3rd ed. London: 1814.]
[Footnote 3: The present Sultan of Marocco.]
[Footnote 4: The only European who is believed to have accomplished
the journey is Caillé. There seems to be no reason to doubt that in
some way he reached Fez from the south by land; but it is a question
whether his account of the direct route from Timbuktou to Tafilelt
is derived from native informants, or whether, in default of notes,
a defective memory led him into errors and inconsistencies that
throw a shade of doubt over his narrative.]
[Footnote 5: See Appendix D.]
[Footnote 6: See the description of _Rotuloidea_, in Appendix F.]
[Footnote 7: We have lately received a parcel not much larger than
an ordinary pocket-book, containing specimens, or fragments, of
about twenty plants, picked up by the commander of a Spanish ship
of war, who landed on the African coast south of Oued Noun. Most
of them are of great scientific interest and value.]
[Footnote 8: As a general rule packages sent by English ships
are rarely tampered with, unless they happen to contain wine or
spirits, in detecting which the British seaman shows a marvellous
readiness. When leaving England Hooker had carried out a nest
of wooden cases intended for sending home living plants. In the
innermost of these he had with his own hands placed two bottles of
brandy as a provision for the journey. The lid of the inner box was
screwed down, and this placed within the next, which was also screwed
down, and this again within another. When the cases, seemingly
untouched, were opened at Mogador, the brandy had disappeared.]
CHAPTER XIV.
Resources of Marocco — Moorish Government a hopeless failure —
Future prospects of Marocco — Objections to European interference
— Answers to such objections.
Scientific travellers, whose attention was mainly engaged in their
own special pursuits, and whose opportunities for gaining information
were restricted by ignorance of the native languages, have no claim
to speak with authority of the condition and prospects of a country
so extensive as the Marocco Empire. But it would be strange if
we had failed to derive some conclusions from the results of our
personal observation and the information gained on the spot.
Of the material resources of Marocco it is difficult to say too
much. Even under existing conditions, a great portion of the
territory is extremely fertile, and supplies for export a large
amount of agricultural produce. The two natural disadvantages with
which it has to contend are, occasional deficient rainfall and the
ravages of locusts. For the first, the remedy is to be sought in
irrigation. The unfailing streams from the Atlas already serve to a
limited extent; but the area of productive land might by intelligent
management be very largely increased. We have seen an estimate of
the quantity of water discharged by the five principal streams
that fall into the Atlantic north of the Atlas, which fixes the
amount at 9,000 cubic feet per second; and if to these were added
the Moulouya, which falls into the Mediterranean, and the Siss, the
Draha, the Asakka, and the Sous, which drain the southern slopes of
the main chain, we should probably double the above estimate, and
find an aggregate amount sufficient to irrigate three millions of
acres. These figures must of course be considered as mere guesses;
but there can be no doubt that they indicate a very large reserve of
unused natural resources. With an almost unequalled climate, there
is scarcely any one of the productions of the warmer temperate and
subtropical zones that may not here be obtained. Besides grain,
the country now supplies large quantities of olive oil, dates,
oranges, and almonds, with a little cotton. The latter may be largely
increased; and there seems to be no reason why coffee, tea, sugar,
indigo, and other valuable exotic produce, should not be raised in
the southern provinces.
There can be no doubt of the existence of mineral wealth in the Great
Atlas. We have the direct testimony of Leo Africanus to the working
of mines of copper and iron in the districts visited by him; and
specimens brought by Shelluh mountaineers show that ores of lead,
silver, nickel, and cobalt are likewise to be found. The forests
of the Atlas would, if saved from wanton destruction, be a further
important source of national wealth.
Rich in all the material elements of prosperity, this great
territory, whose area may be roughly estimated at 190,000 square
miles, is cursed by a Government which has in the past wrought
nothing but ruin and degradation, and whose continued existence
forbids the faintest hope of future improvement.
Nothing seems to be more clear than the decadence of the race who
now represent the Arab conquerors of Mauritania. In their better days
they united to martial vigour and skill some aptitude for progress in
arts and learning. Works of public utility were not unknown; and, at
a time when nearly all Europe was plunged in intellectual darkness,
Fez was one of the chief centres of Arabic culture. The history
of the last four centuries in Marocco has been one of continuous
and uninterrupted decline. Unable to establish their authority
over the larger portion of the region which they claim to govern,
the Sultans have left to anarchy the mountain region into which
the best part of the population was compelled to retire when driven
from the fertile lower country. Over the provinces wherein they are
able to enforce it, the rule of the Moorish Sultans is little else
than an organised system of extortion, in which unchecked license is
given to the agents of the central authority, on the sole condition
of making this the final depository of whatever wealth the country
can produce. The springs of industry and enterprise are broken; no
man can dream of improving his own condition or that of his family,
unless by elaborate fraud and concealment he can hoard up wealth,
which he dare not employ in any way useful to the community.[1]
When we inquire what prospect there may be of any escape from the
miserable condition to which Marocco is now reduced, no hopeful
answer can be found. The most sanguine believer in the future
of the Mohammedan races can suggest nothing better than the
chance of the appearance of a Sultan, intelligent and energetic,
and powerful enough to revive the traditions of the better days
when rulers took some thought for the welfare of their subjects,
and who might initiate an era of security and progress. But, to
say nothing of the improbability of the appearance of such a man
in a family that by frequent intermixture with the black race has
become more Negro than Moorish, it seems a pure illusion to imagine
that even an extraordinary man seated on the throne of Marocco,
and surrounded by such agents as he would have at hand, could
accomplish salutary reforms, and, more than that, to suppose that
these could have any permanence. It is conceivable that if the Moor
and Arab did not stand in the way, and the Berber stock were restored
to their original inheritance, a great ruler might overcome their
fatal tendency to tribal decomposition, weld them into a nation, and
set them on the path of progress. History affords examples of some
such transformation among vigorous barbarians or semi-savages. But
with an effete race, corrupted by luxury, who have lost the spirit,
but preserved many of the traditions, of a decayed civilisation,
no such miracle is to be worked. Men of great powers, such as one
cannot expect to see on the throne of Marocco, have ere now failed
in the attempt, or the little they have effected has died with them.
No rational believer in progress can cling to the belief that this
is the spontaneous tendency of all branches of the human race,
the ultimate condition to which, with whatever delay, all must
conform. Far from this, all history shows that the task of leading
mankind on the onward road has always been the privilege of a few
races only. The larger part of the earth is even now inhabited by
people either in a stationary or a retrograde condition, and of
the latter state Marocco affords one of the most striking examples.
The one reasonable prospect of improvement in the condition of
Marocco is to be sought in its passing under the control of a
civilised State, strong enough to overcome speedily the inevitable
resistance of the Moorish ruling class, and advanced enough to
consult the welfare of the people it undertakes to govern. If we
ask what European State is by character and circumstances best
fitted for such an undertaking the answer must be—France. Having
already achieved with tolerable success a similar task in the
adjoining region of Northern Africa, the French have every motive
to add to their possessions a territory offering far greater natural
advantages; and it is probable that they would have already effected
the conquest, but for the inevitable jealousy of other European
Powers. The French are not successful colonists; nor have the
economic results of their annexation of Algeria been as brilliant
as might have been expected. But in Marocco colonisation is not to
be sought or desired. Under a government affording security for
industry the Berber would settle in the unoccupied lands of the
lower country, and carry out under intelligent control the works
which would fit them for a large increase of population.
Many readers who hold to the traditional political ideas of the
past will shrink from the conclusion here expressed. Not concerning
themselves with the results of such a change on the future condition
of Marocco, they will urge that such a great territorial extension
of the French possessions in Africa would increase to a formidable
extent the power of our ancient rival throughout the Mediterranean
region; and they will with justice argue that it is not for the
general interest of the civilised world that any single Power should
obtain a preponderating influence over the rest.
Experience seems to supply an answer to these objections. If
extensive foreign possessions be in some respects a source of
strength to a country, they not less certainly are a cause of
weakness in others; and in the case of a Power not holding maritime
supremacy, the possession of valuable dependencies easily assailable
by sea acts as a weighty check on the aggressive tendencies of
the people.
A cordial acquiescence in the extension of French territory westward,
might reasonably obtain in return a diminution of the jealousy
with which our neighbours view the increase of English influence on
the east side of the African continent. A cynic may remark that the
policy here suggested would resemble an agreement between freebooters
for the division of spoil; but, in truth, we believe it to be a
mistake to suppose that there would be any spoil to distribute. It
is more than doubtful whether any future extension of the African
possessions either of France or England would more than pay the
necessary expenses of occupation and administration. The gain to
both countries would be of a different order—the outlet provided
for the healthful play of energies cramped within the limits of
an old society, and the sense, invigorating to the whole nation,
of accomplishing a useful part in the world’s development.
Objections to every attempt on the part of a modern civilised State
to undertake the government of inferior races have been urged on
various grounds by writers of the highest reputation.
The barriers established by differences in mental condition, in
traditions, and inherited ideas, between peoples in a different stage
of development, are easily shown to create formidable difficulties in
the way of mutual understanding and appreciation, which must precede
all useful efforts to carry the less advanced races along the path
of progress. The history of British India where, at least during the
present century, the experiment has been tried on the largest scale,
and with the most genuine regard for the welfare of the governed
populations, supplies many an example of the errors inevitable in so
difficult an enterprise. Measures devised with the best intentions
have sometimes failed altogether in achieving the expected effect,
or, when this has been attained, have created discontent, because
not corresponding with the ideas of the native population.
How much better it would be, say objectors of this class, to let
these backward races work out for themselves the problems of material
and mental development, in conformity with the conditions which
nature and history have imposed, than to attempt, in the face of your
own admitted ignorance, to play the part of Providence towards them.
If the discussion were to turn upon the destiny of a country
wherein the elementary conditions of social order had been secured,
wherein progress of some kind, at however slow a pace, was not an
impossibility, it might be possible to admit the force of these
arguments. But it is forgotten that in point of fact most barbarous
countries have failed to reach this indispensable preliminary
stage. However diverse the conditions and the ideas of the human
race, the primal requisites for social order are everywhere the
same. Security for person and property, the protection of the weak
against the strong, tribunals before which justice can be obtained
without fear or favour—where these do not exist, the Power,
whatever it may be, that confers them on a people is a beneficent
one, and for the sake of these any errors that it may commit in
its government will be condoned by posterity.
These remarks apply with especial force to such a country as Marocco,
where, under the yoke of invaders, the greater part of the population
has been for centuries constantly declining in material and mental
condition.
When all has been said, it must be felt that theoretical
considerations are little likely to prevail against that which
history declares to be the uniform condition of human progress. As
a general rule the most vigorous nations are those in which the
increase of population is most rapid, and extension into new
territories is their inevitable destiny. Statesmen and rulers
may to some extent guide and control, but they are powerless to
prevent the operation of natural laws. The choice, in regard to the
inferior races, seems to be whether they shall fall under the rule
of the stronger, and be gradually modified by the influence of new
ideas and institutions, or whether they shall disappear altogether
and give place to the new comer. Where, as has too often happened,
the latter process is effected by injustice and violence, the evil
to the world arises not so much from the loss of a race unfitted
to bear the strain of competition, as from the moral deterioration
that ensues to the invaders.
Amongst the opponents of the extension of European rule over the
adjacent continents must be reckoned those who base their objections
mainly on economic grounds. If the question of the French occupation
of Marocco should arise in a practical shape, it is little likely
that French statesmen will be withheld by considerations which,
even in England, have not obtained wide acceptance; and it would be
out of place to discuss them here. It is, indeed, impossible to deny
that there is a share of truth in the views of those who hold that
colonies and foreign possessions do not, as a general rule, directly
add to the prosperity of a country. If the aim of any nation were
merely to attain a high level of material well-being, and it could
either restrain its citizens from intercourse with less civilised
people, or be content to forego the duty of protecting them, it
might be possible to avoid entering on the path which inevitably
leads to extension of territory. Fortunately for the human race,
such ideas never have prevailed among those nations which have played
any important part in history. If the instinct of adventure, that has
brought the more advanced races into contact with the barbarian and
the savage, has always been alloyed by association with the baser
passions of some, it has also been ennobled by the higher aims of
others. To lay, in new regions, the foundations of civil society; to
establish, more or less imperfectly, the reign of order and justice,
and to secure the protection of the weak against the strong—these
have been the tasks hitherto achieved by the ruling races of the
world; and as knowledge has increased, as the difficulties of
social progress have become better understood, and a stricter code
of justice in dealing with the inferior races is gradually becoming
established, it is allowable to hope that the inevitable changes may
be accomplished with less of human suffering and with better success.
Rome might have been a happier State if its citizens had confined
their ambition to make it a commercial emporium for the neighbouring
tribes of middle Italy, and, content with self-defence, had refrained
from all distant enterprise; Carthage need not have tempted her
fate, if she had been satisfied with her own corner of Africa;
but then the world would have had no history, and the series of
changes from which modern civilisation has been developed would
have been for ages, it may be for ever, delayed.
Of the entire African continent it may be truly asserted that, with
the exception of the small portions held by England and France, its
condition, for at least thirty centuries, has been either stationary
or positively retrograde. The main cause that has maintained
unbroken the long night of barbarism throughout so vast a region
must be sought in the physical obstacles that prevented the ruling
races of the world from extending their power southwards from the
shores of the Mediterranean. For a time it appeared that the Saracen
conquerors of North Africa were destined to spread the light of a
relatively high civilisation over a great part of the continent. But
that race is effete; it is gradually losing ground; and it remains
for the nations that claim to lead the van in the onward march of
the human race to undertake the work that awaits them.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The stories and fables given in Appendix G afford
a striking commentary on the working of the existing system of
so-called government in Marocco.]
APPENDICES.
APPENDIX A.
_Observations for determining Altitudes of Stations in Marocco._
BY JOHN BALL.
The instruments provided for the measuring of heights during
our journey in Marocco were, in the first place, two mercurial
barometers belonging to Sir J. Hooker, which were unfortunately
left behind at the last moment by his attendant who had them in
charge. Mr. Ball carried an aneroid barometer, by Secrétan of
Paris, which, during many mountain journeys before and since,
has performed very satisfactorily; and Mr. Maw had a small pocket
aneroid of ordinary construction, not deserving of much confidence.
At Sir J. Hooker’s request, Mr. Carstensen, then British
Vice-consul, and M. Beaumier, French Consul at Mogador, both
recorded observations of the barometer and thermometer twice
daily (at 10 A.M. and 4 P.M. ) during the period of our stay
in and near to the range of the Great Atlas. Mr. Carstensen’s
instrument was a mercurial barometer, apparently a moderately good
instrument; but, inasmuch as it showed itself more sluggish than
M. Beaumier’s instrument, and the amplitude of its variations
was less considerable, its records do not appear to deserve equal
confidence. On rendering the measurements into millimetres, and
correcting both instruments so as to bring the indications to 0°
C. at the sea level, the observations with the mercurial barometer
fall short of those of the other instrument by a mean difference of
5·5 mm., the chief cause of the discrepancy being apparently due
to the scale of the former being unduly low. Comparing corrected
observations for ten days of very settled weather, during which the
utmost range of either instrument did not exceed 2½ millimetres,
we have the mean pressure
By Carstensen’s instrument = 755·30 mm.
„ Beaumier’s „ = 760·80 mm.
The error of the last-mentioned instrument does not probably exceed
1 mm. in excess of the true pressure, and, if the observations
of the mercurial barometer were used, it would be expedient
to apply to them a correction of +4·5 mm. But, in addition
to the circumstances already mentioned, it must be noted that
Mr. Carstensen’s observations extend over but eighteen days; while
M. Beaumier’s record covers twenty-six days, from May 11 to June
5 inclusive. For these reasons it has appeared best to make use
exclusively of the record supplied by M. Beaumier. His instrument
was an aneroid barometer of the construction adopted by its maker
(Leja), called in Paris _baromètre holostérique_. The readings
were recorded daily at 10 A.M. and 4 P.M., and are carried to
intervals of the quarter of a millimetre.
The first questions that arise in applying observations to the
determination of altitudes relate to the corrections applicable
to each instrument. The corrected readings of Secrétan’s
aneroid at Tangiers, and during the voyage between that place
and Mogador, varied from 760 mm. to 761·5 mm., and may safely be
assumed to be nearly correct; but, on arriving at Mogador, they
fell considerably. Inasmuch, however, as on comparison with the
mercurial barometer at the British Consulate the difference was
inconsiderable, the fall was attributed to the condition of the
weather at that time. It was only on our return to Mogador from
the interior, when a direct comparison between Secrétan’s and
Leja’s instruments disclosed a difference of 7·3 mm. between the
readings, and a further comparison between the recorded observations
of the mercurial barometer and M. Beaumier’s instrument showed
a difference of about 5·5 mm. between the scales of those
instruments, that it became clear that Secrétan’s aneroid had
suffered some change at or about the time of landing at Mogador. A
careful comparison of all the observations leaves no ground for
supposing that this arose from any gradual process; and it seems
almost certain that by one of those accidents to which the best
aneroids are exposed, a casual blow, received about the time of
landing at Mogador, caused the fall of 7 or 8 millimetres which
was then observed. It is quite possible that more complete accuracy
would have been attained by applying a correction of -1 mm. to
M. Beaumier’s observations; but it was thought more convenient
to treat the discrepancy between the instruments as altogether due
to error in Secrétan’s instrument, and to apply to its readings
in South Marocco the correction +7·3 mm. So far as regards the
altitudes determined by comparison with the Mogador observations,
the difference between the method adopted and that above suggested
is quite insensible; but with respect to the altitudes given in
the following table as determined between April 29 and May 10,
wherein the barometric pressure at Mogador is assumed at 760 mm.,
it is clear that, if the error of Secrétan’s instrument has been
overcorrected to the extent of 1 millimetre, the altitudes given
in the table should be increased by some 12 or 13 metres.
The next corrections requiring consideration are those arising from
the temperature of the instrument at the time of observation, and
in reference to this point the best makers of aneroid barometers
are much open to criticism. They assert, and with approximate
accuracy, that in the best instruments compensation for the effect
of temperature on the instrument is provided; but they forget that
in order to compare the indications of the aneroid with those of
the mercurial barometer, or to apply to them any of the formulæ
used for calculating altitudes, it is necessary to know at what
temperature the column of mercury stands, the length of which is
assumed to be shown by the scale of the aneroid. In point of fact,
the scale of the latter instrument, when carefully laid down, is
determined by direct comparison with the mercurial barometer under
varying pressures, and the proper course would be to inscribe on
the case of the aneroid a record of the temperature at which that
comparison was made. From inquiries made of some of the best makers
it seems probable that the best approximate correction is obtained
by assuming the reading of the aneroid to correspond with that of
the mercurial barometer at the temperature of 15° C., and this
has been applied in the annexed table.
The height of M. Beaumier’s instrument above the sea level being
about 10 metres, a small correction of +0·9 mm. has been made
in order to obtain the corrected reading adopted in the following
table for the ‘Mogador barometer.’
As most of our observations at stations in South Marocco were
necessarily made either early in the morning or late in the evening,
while those at Mogador were registered at 10 A.M. and 4 P.M.,
the pressure at the latter place corresponding to the hour of each
of our observations has been found by intercalation. There is of
course an obvious possibility of error here; but, except on a few
occasions, when the changes of pressure were considerable and rapid,
the amount is probably trifling.
It is familiar to all who have given attention to this subject,
that one of the chief causes of error in the results obtained from
barometric observations for altitude arises from the impossibility,
in the present state of knowledge, of obtaining with tolerable
accuracy the temperature of the stratum of air lying between the
lower and the higher stations. This is especially true in climates
such as that of South Marocco, where the sky is commonly clear,
and the air relatively dry. The cooling of the surface at night,
and the heating in the sunshine by day, have an effect on the
layer of air in contact with that surface, and still more on
the traveller’s thermometer, which at the best is imperfectly
protected from radiation, out of all proportion to the actual
cooling or heating effect on the air not in immediate proximity to
the soil. As far as circumstances permitted, it was sought to take
observations about an hour after sunrise and very soon after sunset,
so as to diminish to the utmost this source of error.
It remains true, in the writer’s opinion, that when all these
sources of error in the determination of heights by means of the
barometer have been put together, there remains one surpassing
all the others in amount which altogether escapes our means of
correction. The formulæ employed for the reduction of observations
to numerical results are, and must be, based on the assumption
that a condition of equilibrium between the forces acting on the
instruments at each station has been attained; whereas the utmost
that can be asserted is that there is a continual tendency towards
such equilibrium, requiring a variable time to effect it. But before
equilibrium can be attained new changes occur, and the process of
adjustment recommences. Even as regards stations near enough to be
within sight of each other, repeated observations, however carefully
corrected, give sensibly different numerical results, and when the
stations are widely separated the discrepancies become serious in
amount. The best course for a traveller in a mountain country is to
endeavour to ascertain as nearly as possible the altitude of some
fixed station by taking the mean of several observations compared
with his distant station, and then to determine the altitude of
the higher points reached near to such fixed station by comparison
with an assumed reading of the barometer at the latter as derived
from intercalation.
The altitudes of the stations at Hasni and Iminteli, given in the
following table, derived from several comparisons with the Mogador
readings, are probably nearly correct. That of Arround, as derived
from comparison with Mogador at a time when the oscillations of
pressure were relatively great and rapid, does not deserve much
confidence; and the mean of two comparisons with Hasni has been
preferred, the more readily as this nearly agrees with the result
obtained from a boiling-water observation.
For the reduction of our observations the formula proposed by Count
St. Robert, and first published in the _Philosophical Magazine_
for 1864, has been preferred, and, for convenience, the tables
based on that formula, published by the same author in the Memoirs
of the Academy of Turin for 1867, have been used.
It is true that in the construction of the latter tables a value
has been assumed for the constant expressing the rate of diminution
of density in the atmosphere corresponding to uniform increase of
altitude that is not constantly correct; but it would appear that
the error resulting from this is but trifling. In regard to the
greatest elevation attained by us in the Atlas, the difference in
the measurement obtained by using the tables from that ascertained
by accurate computation from the formula does not exceed 5 metres.
It may here be remarked that the altitudes inserted in some letters
from Sir J. Hooker to the late Sir Roderick Murchison, which were
published in the Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society for
1871, and also most of those given by Mr. Maw in a paper presented
to the Geological Society in January, 1872, were roughly calculated
at the time when the party were
TABLE OF ALTITUDES, DEDUCED FROM BAROMETRIC OBSERVATIONS IN MAROCCO.
[D: Date, 1871
OBar: Observed Barometer
CBar: Corrected Barometer
CMBar: Corrected Mogador Barometer
T: Thermometer in Air, Fahr.
Alt.m.: Altitude in Metres
Alt.f.: Altitude in English feet
Ob: Observations]
+-----+----+------------+-----+------+------+--+---------+------+--+
| D |Hour| Place of |OBar | CBar |CMBar |T | Alt.m. |Alt.f.|Ob|
| | |Observation | | | | | | | |
+-----+----+------------+-----+------+------+--+---------+------+--+
|April| 10 |Nahum’s |754·4|752·6 | — |61| 84·8 | 278 |a |
| 11 |P.M.|house, | | | | | | | |
| | |Tetuan, | | | | | | | |
| | |second floor| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 12 | 6 |Do. |756·2|*753·8| — |55| 70·0 | 230 |{ |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | |{ |
| | | | | | | | | |{ |
| „ „ | 7 |Ford, | 762 |*759·6| — |60| 4·78 | 16 |{ |
| |A.M.|Tetuan River| | | | | | |{*|
| | | | | | | | | |{ |
| „ „ | 10 |Upper limit | 730 |*727·6| — |61| 374·0 |1,227 |{ |
| |A.M.|of Chamærops| | | | | | |{ |
| | | | | | | | | |{ |
| „ „ | 3 |Ridge of |685·2|*682·8| — |60| 926·0 |3,038 |{ |
| |P.M.|Beni Hosmar | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 10 |Douar Arifi |748·5|†754·5| — |70| 64·5 | 212 |† |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 30 |9.15|Souk el | 724 |729·6 | — |76| 360·3 |1,182 |a |
| |A.M.|Tleta | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|May 1| 5 |Camp, Aïn | 724 |729·6 | — |54| 345·5 |1,134 |b |
| |A.M.|Oumast | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 1 |Well under | 720 |725·6 | — |77| 410·1 |1,345 |b |
| |P.M.|Hank el | | | | | | | |
| | |Gemmel | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 2 |Summit of |712·6|718·2 | — |78| 502·4 |1,648 |b |
| |P.M.|Hank el | | | | | | | |
| | |Gemmel | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ 2 |6.30|Camp, | 724 |729·6 | — |57| 347·8 |1,141 |b |
| |A.M.|Sheshaoua | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ |1.45|Aïn Beida | 720 |725·6 | — |80| 412·4 |1,353 |b |
| |P.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ 4 | 2 |Marocco: |712·5|718·1 | — |78| 503·6 |1,652 |b |
| |P.M.|Palace of | | | | | | | |
| | |Ben Dreïs, | | | | | | | |
| | |40 ft. | | | | | | | |
| | |above Piazza| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ 5 | 4 |Do. | 713 |718·6 | — |79| 499·3 |1,638 |b |
| |P.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ 6 | 7 |Do. |710·5|716·1 | — |73| 523·7 |1,718 |b |
| |P.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ 7 | 7 |Do. | 710 |715·6 | — |72| 529·0 |1,736 |a |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ 8 | 5 |Do. | 712 |717·6 | — |72| 504·0 |1,654 |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Do. | — | — | — |— | 511·9 |1,679 |c |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 11 |Camp at |694·0|699·6 | — |73| 733·2 |2,406 |a |
| |P.M.|Mesfioua | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ 9 | 6 |Do. |693·5|699·1 | — |58| 729 |2,392 |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ |Noon|Olive Grove |667·5|673·2 | — |69| 1,077·1 |3,534 |b |
| | |below | | | | | | | |
| | |Kaïd’s | | | | | | | |
| | |house, | | | | | | | |
| | |Tasseremout | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 10 |Camp by |681·0|686·7 | — |59| 874·2 | — |b |
| |P.M.|Ourika | | | | | | | |
| | |river, | | | | | | | |
| | |below | | | | | | | |
| | |village of | | | | | | | |
| | |Achliz | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 11 |Noon|Do. |681·5|687·2 | — |71| 887·0 | — |b |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Do. | — | — | — |— | 880·6 |2,889 |d |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 10 | 4 |Camp, |669·5|675·2 | — |72| 1,044·4 |3,427 |a |
| |P.M.|Ourika | | | | | | | |
| | |valley | | | | | | | |
| | |(Assghin) | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 11 | 6 |Summit of |664·0|670·05|759·7 |62|§1,094·3 |3,590}| |
| |P.M.|pass to | | | | | | }| |
| | |Reraya | | | | | | }|§ |
| | | | | | | | | }| |
|„ 12 | 6 |Camp |674·0|679·35|760·4 |56| §963·1 |3,160}| |
| |A.M.|Tassilunt, | | | | | | | |
| | |Reraya | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 13 | 7 |Camp Hasni, |652·0|656·5 |761·45|57|§1,263·3 | — |b |
| |A.M.|in Aït | | | | | | | |
| | |Mesan valley| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 14 | 10 |Do | 651 |656·04|760·9 |59|§1,274·0 | — |b |
| |P.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 15 | 9 |Do | 647 |653·77|758·8 |56|§1,297·4 | — |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 17 | 10 |Do | 651 |654·83|762·2 |60|§1,292·6 | — |b |
| |P.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Do | — | — | — |— | 1,281·8 |4,205 |e |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 13 |Noon|Adjersiman, | 622 | 626 |762·1 |59| §1,687 |5,535 |§ |
| | |village in | | | | | | | |
| | |Aït Mesan | | | | | | | |
| | |valley | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 2 |Village of | 602 |606·16|762·1 |52| §1,950 | — |b |
| |P.M.|Arround | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 15 | 6 |House, | 597 |605·5 |756·6 |49|§1,947·5 | — |b |
| |P.M.|Arround | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 16 | 6 |Do. | 598 |606·5 |756·6 |46|§1,926·4 | — |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Do. | — | — | — |— | 1,941·3 |6,370 |f |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 13 | 2 |Arround, by | — | — | — |— | 1,968} | | |
| |P.M.|comparison | | | | | } | | |
| | |with Hasni | | | | | } |6,463 |g |
| | | | | | | | } | | |
|„ 15 | 6 |Do. | — | — | — |— | 1,972} | | |
| |P.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 16 | 8 |Arround, by | — | — |757·1 |40|§1,976·1 |6,483 |§ |
| |P.M.|boiling- | | | | | | | |
| | |water | | | | | | | |
| | |observation,| | | | | | | |
| | |at 202·2 | | | | | | | |
| | |Fahr. | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Same, | — | — | — |— | 1,970 |6,463 | |
| | |height | | | | | | | |
| | |adopted on | | | | | | | |
| | |comparison | | | | | | | |
| | |of all | | | | | | | |
| | |observations| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 15 | 1 |Highest |632·5|640·3 |757·6 |59| §1,488 |4,882 |§ |
| |P.M.|olives in | | | | | | | |
| | |Aït Mesan | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 16 | 9 |Saint’s | 568 | — | — |39|‡2,393·2 |7,852 |‡ |
| |A.M.|tomb below | | | | | | | |
| | |Tagherot | | | | | | | |
| | |pass | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ |2.30|200 ft. |498·5| — | — |25|‡3,439·4 |11,284|b |
| |P.M.|below | | | | | | | |
| | |summit of | | | | | | | |
| | |Tagherot | | | | | | | |
| | |pass | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Estimated | — | — | — |— |‡3,500·4 |11,484|b |
| | |altitude of | | | | | | | |
| | |Tagherot | | | | | | | |
| | |pass | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 18 | 8 |Camp, | 646 |684·1 |764·3 |58|§1,378·2}| | |
| |P.M.|Sektana | | | | | }|4,523 |§ |
| | | | | | | | }| | |
|„ 19 | 10 |Do. | 647 |649·3 |764·1 |65|§1,379·1}| | |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 10 |Camp, Amsmiz| 672 |675·3 |762·7 |58|§1,018·8 | — |b |
| |P.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 20 | 9 |Do. | 672 |674·9 |763·1 |72|§1,049·0 | — |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 21 | 9 |Do. |672·5|676·55|761·85|70|§1,024·2 | — |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Do. | — | — | — |— | 1,030·7 |3,382 |f |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 2 |Iminteli, | 647 |651·4 |761·6 |64|§1,345·2 | — |§ |
| |P.M.|Amsmiz | | | | | | | |
| | |valley | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 22 | 6 |Do. |646·5|651·0 |761·5 |60|§1,344·0 | — |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 23 | 8 |Do. | 646 |651·6 |760·15|65|§1,348·1 | — |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | — |Do. | — | — | — |— | 1,345·8 |4,415 |f |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | — |Do. | — | — | — |— |**1,348·8|4,425 |**|
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | — |Iminteli | — | — | — |— |††1,346·5|4,418 |††|
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 22 | 9 |Halt at | 629 | — | — |64| §§1,708 |5,604 |§§|
| |A.M.|base of | | | | | | | |
| | |Djebel Tezah| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ |2.30|Summit of |512·5|518·0 |760·85|60|§3,359·7 |11,023|§ |
| |P.M.|Djebel Tezah| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Do. do. do. | — | — | — |— |§§3,340·5|10,961|§§|
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Do. do. do. | — | — | — |— | 3,350·1 |10,972|h |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 4 |Upper limit | 565 | — | — |59| §§2,490 |8,170 |§§|
| |P.M.|of Quercus | | | | | | | |
| | |Ballota | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 24 |5.30|Kasbah at |666·5|672·3 |759·9 |61|§1,063·5 |3,489 |§ |
| |A.M.|Amsmiz | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 25 | 8 |Kasbah at | 694 |699·5 |760·1 |65| §721·3 |2,367 |b |
| |A.M.|Mzouda | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 2 |Halt near | 688 |692·7 |760·1 |70| §814·3 |2,671 |b |
| |P.M.|Kasbah, | | | | | | | |
| | |Keira | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 26 | 8 |Camp |682·5|686·9 |761·4 |64| §879·5 | — |b |
| |A.M.|Seksaoua | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 27 | 6 |Do. do. | 683 |687·2 |761·6 |60| §868·5 | — |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Do. do. | — | — | — |— | 874 |2,867 |d |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 29 | 6 |Camp below | 670 | 674 |760·8 |58|§1,035·3 |3,397 |§ |
| |A.M.|Milhaïn | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ |5.30|Watershed |656·0|661·15|760·7 |52|§1,190·2 |3,905 |b |
| |P.M.|between Aïn | | | | | | | |
| | |Tursil and | | | | | | | |
| | |Mtouga | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 30 | 7 |Camp by |677·0|681·4 |761·4 |58| §940·3 |3,085 |b |
| |A.M.|Kasbah, | | | | | | | |
| | |Mtouga | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 8 |Camp, Mskala|716·0|719·8 |761·9 |60| §466·3 | — |b |
| |P.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|„ 31 | 8 |Do. do. |715·5|718·5 |762·7 |65| §486·3 | — |b |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |Do. do. | — | — | — |— | 476·3 |1,562 |d |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ | 5 |Room 6 m. | 720 |722·8 |762·9 |68| §437·4 | — |§ |
| |P.M.|above Court | | | | | | | |
| | |of Kasbah | | | | | | | |
| | |of Shedma | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
|June | 8 |Do. do. do. |720·5|722·0 |764·35|67| §446·1 | — |b |
| 1 |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ |— |Do. do. do. | — | — | — |— | 441·8 |1,449 |d |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ „ |— |Court of | — | — | — |— | 436 |1,430 |b |
| | |the Kasbah | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | |
| „ 2 | 6 |Camp, Aïn |744·5|746·4 |763·7 |58| §154·8} | | |
| |A.M.|el Hadjar | | | | | } | | |
| | | | | | | | } | 504 |§ |
| „ 3 |5.30|Do. do. |744·0|746·6 |763·0 |56| §152·1} | | |
| |A.M.| | | | | | | | |
+-----+----+------------+-----+------+------+--+---------+------+--+
[Observations column:
a: Assumed pressure at sea level 760 mm.
b: Do.
c: Mean of five observations.
d: Mean of two observations.
e: Mean of four observations.
f: Mean of three observations.
g: Differences by St. Robert’s method 686·2 m. and 690·2 m.
respectively.
h: Altitude adopted.
*: As the river near its mouth can be only about 3 m. above the
sea, a correction of -0·6 mm. is inferred for April 12.
†: See note as to corrections of Secrétan’s instrument after
arrival at Mogador. Assumed special correction for
April 29 +·05 mm.
§: Comparison with Mogador observations reduced to sea level.
‡: By comparison with Arround.
**: Altitude by comparison with Amsmiz on May 21.
††: Altitude adopted. Mean of four results.
§§: Comparison with Iminteli.]
travelling in Marocco, and before the necessity for a considerable
correction to the readings of Secrétan’s aneroid had become
apparent. The difference arising from this and other corrections
applicable to the highest points reached by us is considerable, and
requires a deduction of about 500 feet from the estimated height of
the Tagherot pass, and about the same from the calculated altitude
of Djebel Tezah. The corresponding error in the calculated altitudes
for the low country stations, e.g. those between Mogador and Marocco,
averages about 200 feet.
J. B.
* * * * *
APPENDIX B.
_Itineraries of Routes from the City of Marocco through the Great
Atlas._
The information respecting the routes here given was supplied by a
Jew named Salomon ben Daoud, an inhabitant of the city of Marocco
engaged in trading operations with the natives of the portions of the
Great Atlas wherein the authority of the Sultan is recognised. In the
absence of more accurate reports, it appears desirable to publish
this slight contribution to the topography of a country altogether
unknown to Europeans, excepting so far as we were able to visit a
few of the places enumerated. To assist those who may hereafter seek
to follow any of these routes, the names of places inserted in the
French map of Marocco by Captain Beaudouin, or in the map annexed
to this volume, are distinguished by an asterisk. The distances
are reckoned by hours, one of which may be counted as equivalent
to four miles in the plain, and to a somewhat lesser distance in
the mountain. A day’s journey usually varies from eight to ten
hours. The spelling of the names is made to agree with that adopted
throughout this work, the vowels having the same sounds as in most
European languages, and not those peculiar to our country.
ROUTE 1.
_Marocco to Demenet, and Excursion from Demenet to places in the
neighbourhood._
Marocco to Ain el Berda 3 hours.
„ *Sidi Rahal 5 „
„ *Oued Tessout (ford the river) 4 „
„ *Tidli (a mountain) 2 „
„ Draha 1 hour.
„ *Demenet 3 hours.
--
18 „
This road is undulating, with hills and valleys, or hollows.
From Demenet cross over the river Emhasser, and proceeding for one
hour on the mountain you will reach a place called Iminifri, on a
high mountain, which contains an opening or pass only just large
enough for one person to creep through on his hands and knees, the
length of the pass being about 100 yards; and when through it you
will find open ground on the top of the high mountain. There will
be seen remains (ruins) of old Christian buildings, in which live
many birds. From the upper part of this mountain overhanging parts
(or cliffs) branch out downwards against the mountain, towards the
River Tor, of 500 yards long; but these overhanging parts do not
reach the water of the river.
[The places here spoken of apparently lie N.W. of Demenet—the
El Acchabi of the French map. The river Tor is probably the Oued
Lakdeur of the same map.]
ROUTE 2.
_Demenet to the Sources of the Oued Tessout._
Demenet to Aït Cid Hassan (between mountains) 4 hours.
„ *Aït Emdoual 1 hour.
In Aït Emdoual is a river one day’s journey long. There are
inhabitants along the river. From this to Aït Affan one day’s
journey over barren desert ground uninhabited.
From *Aït Affan to Ansai (contains some inhabitants) ? hours.
„ „ Aït Kassi 2 „
„ „ Tel Khedit 2 „
Tel Khedit is a mountain, and contains the source of the river
Tessout; and on this mountain the snow remains both in summer
and winter.
[This route agrees in many respects with the indications of the
French map. The name Aït Chihatchen, there laid down south of
Demenet, is probably the Aït Cid Hassan of the itinerary. It
appears, however, that the importance of the mountain chain on
the north side of the upper valley of the Tessout must be much
exaggerated by the hill-shading on the map. The main chain of the
Atlas is undoubtedly that on the southern side of that valley. The
head of the valley is, on the French map, united to the province of
N’tifa. _A priori_ probability and the wording of the itinerary
suggest that it all belongs to Demenet.]
ROUTE 3.
_Marocco to N’tifa._
Marocco to Zourt ben Sessy 2 hours.
„ Ras el Aïn 2 „
[Here is a mountain called Bou Surkar, or stony.]
„ *Tamlelt 3 hours.
„ *N’tifa 1 day.
[None of these places seem to be laid down on the French map, unless
Tendalet be the same place as Tamlelt. N’tifa is properly the name
of the province. The particular place so named by our informant,
is probably the residence of the Kaïd, or Governor. It seems likely
that this is very near the place marked Bezzou on the French map.]
ROUTE 4.
_Demenet to N’tifa._
Demenet to Aït Mazan (valleys and hills) 3 hours.
„ *N’tifa 3 „
---
6 „
On this road is found the Gum Euphorbium plant, or tree, and the
trees producing the brown gum arabic. From N’tifa forward is
the country of the tribe Aït Attab where there is little or no
government among the people.
ROUTE 5.
_Tour in the Mountains East and South-east of Marocco._
Marocco to Zourt ben Sessy 2 hours.
„ Ras el Aïn 8 „
„ *Tagana 2 „
„ Aït Zehad (on the mountain in Mesfioua) 4 „
„ Iminterrat 2 „
[Here are found some ruins of Christian buildings of old times.]
Marocco to Tasselt 2 hours.
„ Tel Eizrat 2 „
„ Tighidoun Idioum 4 „
„ Aït Izzel (high mountain) 4 „
„ Assefrag (Lasfaour) 6 „
„ Imin Gagar 6 „
„ Imin Zadin 2 „
„ Tasghinout (Tasseremout?) 3 „
„ Aït Absalem 3 „
„ Tidiren 2 „
„ Ohamma ? „
„ Aïn Hehia 2 „
„ Gries (Gers?) 3 „
„ Ohida 3 „
„ Tigardoun 2 „
„ Tigola (Tougla?) 2 „
„ Tabia (Aït Tieb?) 2 „
„ Tamzart 4 „
These being the mountains of the Mesfioua country.
ROUTE 6.
_Tour in the Mountains South of Marocco._
Marocco to Amreen (plain, orchards) 4 hours.
„ Resmat 2 „
„ *Ourika ? „
There is the river Ourika passing between mountains. Crossing,
and going up to the left, the first village is Achliz. The chief,
or sheik, who governs Ourika lives here, he being under the orders
of his superior, Ibrahim el Graoui, who lives in Marocco. From Achliz
you go to Azrou Miloul, and from this to Tourit. Here are salt wells
or springs. From Tourit you go to Agadir which is on the top of the
mountain, from this to Timluzen, and from this to the Zaouia. The
before last stages from Ourika are all half an hour’s distance one
from the other. From Tourit to Sissag on high mountains. [Apparently
Sissag is the name of the Zaouia.] These are the villages on the left
side of the river until Sissag. The villages on the right hand side
of the river are as follows:—The first is Alzli; from this you go
to Tafzhia, and from this to Anrar, and from this to Amsin; from this
to Assgher, and from this to Arzballo; from this to Egremon, and from
this to Ashni, and from this to Esurgraf; this mountain is covered
with snow. These are the Ourika mountains near to Marocco town,
besides the higher mountains which are above these we have mentioned.
[All the places here mentioned are in the Ourika valley. The left
and right sides are those on the left and right of the stream to
a person ascending the valley, contrary to the usage in European
countries where those terms are supposed to refer to one following
the course of the stream.]
ROUTE 7.
_Description of the Roads of Ghighaya._
Marocco to Tahanout 6 hours.
„ Tasslamat ½ hour.
„ *Souk el Ad (of Moulai Ibrahim) 2 hours.
From this to El Anraz; here is a village called Amareen, three hours
distant—it leads to Immaregen; and from this one hour’s journey
will bring the traveller to a place called Agadir Tagadurt el Bour,
and from this last is the commencement of the road or highway to
the province of Sous.
[There can be no doubt that the district here rendered Ghighaya
from the Hebrew, is the same as we wrote down as Reraya, the _r_
in the latter name having a guttural sound without an equivalent
in any European language known to us. The Souk el Ad, or Sunday
Market, is of course somewhere near to the Sanctuary of Moülai
Ibrahim. Although we fail to identify any of the villages named
above, it seems probable that the place spoken of as Agadir Tagadurt
el Bour, is the same as Arround, where we passed two nights.]
ROUTE 8.
_Description of the Road between Ghighaya and Ourika._
Marocco to Tahanout. 6 hours.
„ Tedroura 1 hour.
„ Ourika 1½ „
This being a road to a mountain containing snow, in the country of
Ghighaya. From Tranghert, six hours’ journey to a mountain called
Ousertik, within the jurisdiction of the Governor, Kaïd Ibrahim
el Graoui.
[The writer here gives an alternative route from Marocco to Ourika,
slightly longer than the direct way given in Route 6, and then
refers, obviously not from personal knowledge, to a mountain path
connecting Ourika with one or other of the two valleys included in
the district of Reraya or Ghighaya. Tranghert is probably a village
in the western branch of the Ourika valley.]
SALOMON BEN DAOUD.
* * * * *
APPENDIX C.
_Notes on the Geography of South Marocco._
By JOHN BALL.
Some remarks upon the geography of South Marocco seem to be
called for from a writer who has ventured to put forth a new map,
largely differing from those hitherto published; but the subject
is encompassed with so much difficulty, and the amount of accurate
information available is so limited, that a prudent writer must be
content to regard most of his own conclusions as merely provisional,
and liable to be modified or set aside by the results of further
exploration, whenever this shall become practicable. In the
mean time, some good may be effected by clearing the ground of
some received errors that are absolutely disproved by facts now
ascertained.
Little need here be said of the slight contribution to the
knowledge of South Marocco that can be gleaned from the writers of
antiquity. The earliest document bearing on the subject was doubtless
the record of the voyage of Hanno, set up in the temple of Saturn
at Carthage. This is known to us only by the version, rendered
by an unknown hand into Greek, which, with all the accumulated
errors of the translator and the subsequent transcribers, has
reached us under the title of the _Periplus of Hanno_. From this
record the particulars to be gleaned regarding this part of Africa
are scanty and of an uncertain character. Commentators have,
with much probability, identified the Solois promontory of Hanno
(Λιβυκὸν ἀκρωτήριον λάσιον δένδρεσι) with Cape Cantin. But what are
we to make of the next statement that, having passed the cape, they
sailed for half a day east, or south-east (πρὸς ἥλιον ἀνισχοντα),
before reaching the great marshy lake, ‘where elephants and other wild
beasts abounded’? True it is that south of Cape Cantin there are
two slight indentations, mere coves, where the land for a short
distance trends to the south-east; but the general direction
for a mariner along this part of the coast is SSW., as far as
Mogador. Agreeing with the commentators that the ‘great marshy
lake’ was probably near the mouth of the Oued Tensift, we are
led to believe that Hanno disembarked settlers at no less than five
stations on the coast of what is now the province of Haha. If we may
rely on the correctness of the Greek text we must infer that these
were settlements established by the Carthaginians before the date of
Hanno’s expedition.[1] The next place reached by Hanno was ‘the
great river Lixus, flowing from Libya, about which dwelt a nomadic
people,’ who are called in the text Lixitæ (Λιξίται). It is
further stated that the river is said to flow from great mountains
in the neighbourhood, around which dwell the Troglodytes, referred
to in our text, p. 301. The only assertion that can be confidently
made about the Lixus of Hanno is, that it was quite a different
stream from that afterwards known to the Romans by the same name,
the latter being the modern Oued el Kous, falling into the sea
at El Araisch, and which Pliny makes fifty-seven Roman miles from
Tangier. The learned commentator, C. Müller, identifies the Lixus
of the Periplus with the Draha; but, unless we assume that great
physical changes have occurred during the interval, this supposition
is scarcely compatible with the existence of a numerous population
near the mouth of the river. It may possibly have been the river
Akassa (the native name of the river of Oued Noun); but it appears
far more probable that it was the Sous, the only one of these rivers
which is believed constantly to discharge a large volume of water
into the sea. It may be, indeed, that there is an etymological
connection between the names Sous and Lixus, as there undoubtedly
is between some names still current and those used by the Romans.
After Hanno, the next voyager along this coast of whom we known
anything was Polybius. The original record of his voyage has,
unfortunately, not come down to posterity, but a few particulars have
been preserved by Pliny.[2] We learn incidentally that the Romans
called Cape Cantin promontorium Solis, a name evidently suggested by
the earlier name Solois of the Carthaginians, afterwards rendered
in Greek by Ptolemy ἡλίου ἄκρον. Whether Polybius succeeded in
reaching the Senegal, or some other river within the tropics, may
be uncertain; but he undoubtedly visited many places on the Atlantic
coast of Marocco. We hear for the first time of the rivers _Subur_
(modern Sebou), and _Salat_ (the Bouregrag, which falls into the
sea at Sallee). He touched at the port of _Rutulis_, said to have
been eight Roman miles beyond the mouth of the river Anatis, which
was 205 Roman miles from Lixus (El Araisch). The river is doubtless
the modern Oum-er-bia, and the port was the same which the Portuguese
named Mazagan. The next port touched by Polybius was named _Risadir_,
which has been with much probability identified with Agadir.[3]
As for the rivers named by Polybius on the coast south-west of the
Atlas, their identification with any known to modern geographers
is purely conjectural.
Of Roman writers Pliny is the only one from whom any positive
information as to the geography of this part of Africa is to be
gained; but even this is very limited.[4] He complains that the
reports as to the region beyond the narrow limits within which
Roman power was established in his day were most fallacious, and
censures the Roman authorities for indolently giving circulation
to mendacious stories, instead of investigating the truth for
themselves. In his day Sala (modern Sallee) was the most southern
of the Roman settlements in Marocco. He describes it as ‘a
town standing on a river of the same name, on the confines of the
desert (_solitudinibus vicinum_), which was infested by herds of
elephants, and still more by the tribe of the Autololes, through
whose territory lay the way to the great mountain of Africa, the
many-fabled Atlas.’ It appears elsewhere that Pliny had access to
the manuscripts left by Juba, which, unfortunately, have not come
down to posterity. That accomplished prince appears to have held
control over the whole territory of Marocco as far as the base of
the Atlas. It is to these lost pages of Juba that we probably owe the
only fragment of moderately correct information as to South Marocco
which is to be found in Pliny’s work.[5] The river Asana, whose
mouth is said to be 150 Roman miles beyond Sala, is doubtless the
Anatis of Polybius, and the Oum-er-bia of the Moors. The next river,
which he calls Fut, is the Tensift. The distance assigned for the
interval between the mouth of the Fut and the Atlas is excessive;
but not largely so if Agadir be intended, that being the first
place on the coast from which the high summits of the Atlas are
habitually visible. The statement as to the existence of remains
of vineyards and palm-groves about the ruins of ancient dwellings
seems to lend probability to the belief that the Carthaginian
settlements on this coast may have had a prolonged existence. The
fall of the parent State would have had but an indirect influence
on their destiny. Verbal resemblances are so often misleading that
little weight can be attached to them; but it is natural to compare
the word Dyris, said by Pliny to be the native name for the Atlas,
with that now used by the natives—_Idrarn_—this being the plural
form of _Adrar_, which means generically a mountain, both in the
Shelluh and in several other Bereber dialects.
Besides what Pliny may have learned from King Juba as to the
geography of the coast of South Marocco, he had access to
contemporary testimony as to some part of the interior of the
country. Suetonius Paulinus (the same who at a later date played
a conspicuous part in Britain) being appointed governor of the
provinces of N.W. Africa, then recently incorporated in the Roman
Empire, resolved to penetrate southward beyond the Great Atlas,
whether with a view to intimidate the native tribes, or for the mere
satisfaction of carrying the Roman eagles into a new region. He
appears to have left a written account of his expedition, which,
like so much else of ancient geographical literature, has been
lost. The particulars preserved by Pliny are unfortunately so vague
as to be almost valueless.
In ten days from his starting point, wherever that may have been,
we are told that he reached the highest point of his march. He
reported the mountain to be covered with dense forests of trees of
an unknown kind, and declares the summit of the range to be deeply
covered with snow, even in summer.[6] From the summit of the Atlas
Suetonius descended, and marched on through deserts of black sand,
out of which rose here and there rocks that had the aspect of being
burnt, to a river called Ger. Although it was the winter season the
heat of these regions was found intolerable. The neighbouring forests
abounded in elephants and other wild beasts, and with serpents of
every kind, and were inhabited by a people called Canarians.
The controversies to which this passage has given rise are not
likely to be definitively decided. The balance of opinion leans
to the belief that Suetonius ascended the valley of the Moulouya,
and traversed the Atlas by the pass now called Tizin Tinrout,
leading to Tafilelt. This was the pass traversed by Gerhard Rohlfs
in 1864, and to his narrative alone we can refer for information
respecting it and the country extending southward towards the Great
Desert. The existence in that part of W. Africa, on the south side of
the Great Atlas, so far from the influence of the Atlantic climate,
of vast forests capable of maintaining elephants and sheltering a
native population, would apparently be irreconcilable with existing
physical conditions, and is not readily admissible in the Roman
period. Whatever vigorous vegetation exists in the region traversed
by Rohlfs adjoins the banks of the stream; and, though sand may
encroach here and there, and sun-burnt rocks are seen there, as
elsewhere on the south side of the Atlas, the description is not
what would occur to any one following the course of the stream. It
seems, further, highly improbable that a prudent general, such as
Suetonius Paulinus, would have undertaken to lead an aggressive
military force along the tortuous valley of the Moulouya, some 250
miles in length, enclosed for the most part between lofty mountains;
and it is also to be noted that at the period of his expedition
the Romans held no station in the valley of the Moulouya, if indeed
they ever penetrated far into it.
The few particulars quoted above lead to the conclusion that the
Roman general in his southward march beyond the Atlas did not follow
the course of a stream, but was compelled to cross a tract of desert
before reaching the river of which he speaks, which, therefore,
probably flowed from E. to W. On the whole, it seems to me that the
brief record is more easily reconciled with the supposition that
Suetonius Paulinus made Sala (Sallee), the farthest Roman station
in Western Africa, his base of operations; that he marched thence
across the open country towards SSW., and gained the summit of
the Atlas range at the pass between Imintanout and Tarudant.[7]
Between the course of the Sous and that of the Akassa, or river
of Oued Noun, there are extensive tracts of sandy desert, where,
even in winter, his troops may easily have suffered from heat and
thirst; and the river (called Ger) may have been the main branch,
or one of the tributaries of the Akassa flowing from the range of
Anti-Atlas. The former existence of great forests, frequented by
elephants, on the flanks of that range, is far more probable than
on the parched southern slopes of the interior, where, as Rohlfs
tells us, the rocks and hills are now absolutely bare of tree
and shrub vegetation. Finally, it is more natural to look for the
ancient Canarians in the country near the Atlantic coast than in
the interior.
The solitary argument of any weight in favour of the Moulouya
and Tafilelt route seems to be derived from the fact that in
descending southward from the pass at the head of the Moulouya
valley the traveller follows the course of a stream which now bears
the name Gers, or Ghir. But it must be remarked that this name
exists elsewhere in Marocco, there being at least three streams so
denominated, and further that it is nowadays borne by the river
of Tafilelt only during a short part of its course. Rohlfs, who
is here our only authority, tells us that the stream first met
in descending from the pass of Tizin Tinrout is called Siss.[8]
After following this for seven or eight hours, it is joined by
another stream which he called _Ued Gers_. The united stream bears
the latter name for a distance of some six hours’ ride, and then
resumes the name of Siss, which it bears throughout its subsequent
course till it is lost in the sands of the Sahara.
The long period that intervened between the decline of Roman power
and the establishment of Mohammedan rule in Marocco, is a blank to
the historian and the geographer. It can scarcely be doubted that
Roman authority and Roman institutions spread themselves throughout
a great part of the open country between the Atlas and the Atlantic,
although there is but little direct evidence to that effect.
Little reliance can be placed on the statement of Leo Africanus
that the people of Barbary were converted to Christianity 250 years
before the birth of Mohammed, or about A.D. 320, for, in a country
so split up into independent tribes, the new faith must have made
way irregularly and at various periods; while it is most probable
that it never struck root among the mountain tribes of the Great
Atlas. But the positive assertion of the same writer, that when
the Arabs arrived in Marocco they found the Christians masters of
the country, probably holds good of all except the mountain tracts.
Whether any reliable information as to South Marocco is to be
gleaned from the writings of the eminent Arabian geographers who
lived between the tenth and fourteenth centuries, I am unable to
say; but it seems sufficiently certain that the period of European
exploration leading to practical results commenced in the fourteenth
century. The Genoese, the Catalans, and the Venetians appear to
have despatched several expeditions along the coast, most of them
intended to reach the gold-producing regions of tropical Africa. The
Portuguese, who were destined to outstrip all their rivals in
maritime exploration, were the first to establish themselves on
the western coast of Marocco; and, at one time or other, they held
most, if not all, the Atlantic seaports. Much information doubtless
lies concealed among the mediæval records of Italy, Spain, and,
especially, of Portugal; but up to the present time nothing has
been published to show that any European was able, from personal
knowledge, to give an account of the interior of Marocco, before
Marmol, who, having been taken prisoner by the Moors, passed several
years at Fez and elsewhere in North Marocco, about the middle of the
sixteenth century. The earliest known document showing a moderately
correct knowledge of the coast is a map (number 5 in the series),
contained in the celebrated _Portulano_ of the Laurentian Library
in Florence, bearing the date 1351.[9] In this map, which, from
internal evidence, must be of Genoese origin, the general outline
of the Marocco coast is correct, and the positions of the few
places laid down unmistakable. The now abandoned town of Fedala
(Fidalah), Mefegam (Mazagan), and Mogodor here appear for the first
time. Of early Portuguese maps there must be many not now known to
geographers, and it was certainly from Portuguese authorities that
Gerard Mercator partly derived the materials used in both editions of
his Atlas. In the _Atlas Minor_, published by Hondins in 1608, a map
of South Marocco is given in page 567, wherein for the first time an
attempt is made to represent the positions of cities and mountains,
and the courses of rivers in the interior of the country. The
outline of the coast is here less correct than that given in the
much more ancient Medicean map; but there is far more of detail,
especially as to places which were evidently well known to the
Portuguese. Thus, as mentioned in the text, we here for the first
time find the island of Mogador with the name _‘I. Domegador.’_
The places laid down in the interior appear for the most part to
be taken (but with numerous errors) from the work of Leo Africanus;
but the chartographer has spoiled his map by making the river Sous
flow from SE. to NW., instead of from NNE. to SSW. Mountains are
scattered pretty uniformly over the map; but what is made to appear
as the loftiest mass, and is marked _‘Atlas M.,’_ with a town
named Tagovast at its foot, stands S. of Tarudant about the western
extremity of the range of Anti-Atlas. The accompanying letterpress,
page 566, is to a great extent derived from Leo Africanus, but with
additions from other sources. It is curious to read that Tarudant,
now a place which no Christian stranger dare approach, was then
resorted to by French and English merchants.
The name of the remarkable man, who stands almost alone as a
geographical authority for the interior of Marocco, has already
been mentioned; but it is impossible to dismiss him so lightly. Leo
Africanus, to give him the name by which he is known to posterity,
was a Moor of Grenada, born in the latter part of the fifteenth
century, who, with his kinsfolk, fled to Fez at or about the
time of the siege of Granada in 1492. In those days Fez was the
head-quarters of Arabic culture; Leo was an earnest and successful
student, and, as a man of learning and intelligence, was taken into
favour by Mouley Ahmet, the founder of the dynasty still reigning in
Marocco. Either in company with the new ruler, or with his protection
and authority, he travelled through almost every part of the empire,
as well as nearly all the rest of Northern Africa, and evidently made
copious notes. He wrote, in Arabic, various works on history and
grammar which have not been preserved, and, in the same language,
the original version of his description of Africa. It would appear
that he carried this with him, in manuscript, when, in 1517, he was
made captive by Christian corsairs, who took him to Rome. Leo X.,
hearing that a learned Moor had been brought a captive to Rome,
sent for him, and treated him with kindness and liberality. A
suggestion that he should undergo the rite of baptism seems to
have encountered no obstinate prejudices, for he soon complied,
receiving at the font the Pope’s own names, Giovanni Leone, and
perhaps becoming as earnest a Christian as the Pontiff himself. He
afterwards lived many years in Rome, acquired the Italian tongue,
and translated his work on Africa into that idiom. This remained
for some time unpublished, until it fell into the hands of Ramusio,
who included it in his famous work ‘Delle Navigationi et Viaggi,’
of which the first edition, in three folio volumes, was printed in
Venice in 1550. It is not easy to account for the numerous variations
between the original text and the versions which appeared in various
languages during the century following the original publication;
but in the absence of satisfactory explanation it seems safest to
accept the text of Ramusio as alone authentic.
Like most modern readers, the members of our party, when they
resolved to visit Marocco, knew nothing of the work of Leo
Africanus beyond the fact that he is occasionally referred to
by writers on North Africa. The time for preparation was far too
short for extensive reading, and we took with us only the works
of Jackson and Gerhard Rohlfs. It has, however, since that time
been a matter of frequent regret that we had not the opportunity,
while travelling in the country, of referring to the only writer
who had actually seen the greater part of it with his own eyes, and
as to whose general truthfulness there is no room for suspicion. It
is impossible here to enter into the many interesting details that
abound throughout the text; but it is worth while to point out the
more important changes that are disclosed between the condition of
South Marocco as it was more than three and a half centuries ago,
and that of the present day.
So far as regards the manners, ideas, habits, and mode of living
of the inhabitants, the changes are quite insignificant, save
in so far as these are affected by a general decline in material
prosperity. The central authority was at that period much weaker,
and the separate tribes led a more independent existence. Amongst
the Bereber people of the mountains, and even in many of the larger
towns, such government as existed was ordinarily of the democratic
type. Thus we read that in Tarudant four chiefs were elected to
manage the affairs of the city, holding office for only six months
at a time.
If it were possible to doubt the results of the establishment of a
system of grinding despotism, administered by officials who enjoy
practical impunity so long as they satisfy the pecuniary demands of
their master, the pages of Leo Africanus bring ample evidence. It is,
indeed, true that a slight improvement has ensued as regards internal
tranquillity. There is now rather less of habitual turbulence;
the mutual encounters between neighbouring tribes may be somewhat
less frequent; and brigandage, which appears to have been not
uncommon in the open country, is now comparatively rare. It may
be doubted whether this advantage, such as it is, is not as much
due to diminished population as to the successful administration
of the Moorish Sultans.
On the other hand, there is overwhelming evidence of a general
and progressive decline in prosperity. Throughout the southern
provinces, and especially in Haha and Sous, Leo Africanus found
numerous flourishing towns, most of them visited and described by
him. In each one of these he found people living in comparative ease,
inhabiting good houses with gardens, and possessing, according to the
standard of the age, some literary education. From the towns, and
even from the inner valleys of the Atlas, students flocked to Fez,
then the head-quarters of Arabic knowledge and civilisation. All
the principal places were then local centres of production, the
artificers being principally Jews.
It is notable that excepting the city of Marocco, then full of a
numerous and active population, none of the towns mentioned owed
their foundation to the conquering race. Leo, not likely to detract
from the achievements of his own people, expressly attributes the
origin of most of them to the ‘antichi Africani,’ by which
designation he commonly speaks of the primitive Bereber stock;
and, as regards the smaller towns lying in the low country north
of the Atlas, he frequently speaks of the population being harassed
by the Arabs, then, as at this day, leading a semi-nomad existence
in the plains.
If we confront his description with the present state of the country
we find comparative ruin and desolation. In all the southern
provinces we now find but two inland cities of any importance,
Marocco and Tarudant, and these dwindled to a mere tithe of their
ancient wealth and population. Where the traveller in the sixteenth
century found thriving towns at intervals of ten or twelve miles,
there are now miserable villages whose wretched inhabitants maintain
a bare existence, and are often unable to pay the imposts which
leave no surplus behind. It does not appear that in the great
province of Haha there is now a single place that can be called a
town except the ruined seaport of Agadir, destined by nature to be
the chief port of South Marocco, but closed to trade by the caprice
of a Sultan. Throughout the interior we saw or heard of but two
places that could by courtesy be called towns, Amsmiz and Moulai
Ibrahim. Although no statistics are available, it seems a moderate
estimate if we reckon that the present population of South Marocco
cannot exceed one-third of what it was when Leo wrote.
Along with the decay of wealth and population, we naturally find
that of everything that could raise the people in the scale of
existence. In Leo’s day iron and copper mines were worked in
many places in the Atlas, and various handicrafts exercised, of
which there is now no trace. Education, such as it was, was widely
spread; and in some parts of the Atlas where it was absent, the
traveller noted the fact as a proof of the low condition of the
population. He notes as a curious incident that when he visited
the mountain district of Semele, where the people were ignorant of
reading and writing, they forced him to remain nine days, hearing
and deciding all pending cases of litigation; in doing which, as
he records, he had to act both as judge and notary, there being no
one competent to write down the decisions of the court.
Several incidental statements in the work of Leo Africanus suggest an
inquiry of considerable interest. There is nothing in the published
annals of the Portuguese wars with the Moors to suggest a belief that
the former at any time established their authority in the interior
of South Marocco, or even undertook any inland expeditions. From
Leo’s narrative it appears, however, that, at the beginning of the
sixteenth century, they had, at least occasionally, penetrated much
farther into the interior than has commonly been supposed, and that
the authority of the Portuguese king was in some places paramount. At
Tumeglast, a place in the plain of Marocco, probably not far from
the present village of Frouga, Leo lodged in the house with a Moor,
named Sidi Yehie, who had come in the name of the king of Portugal
to levy tribute, the same Moor having been made by the king chief
(capitano) of the district of Azasi. Elsewhere he relates that the
king of Marocco sent an expeditionary force against an independent
chief in the district of Hanimmei, forty miles east of the city of
Marocco (apparently in the present province of Demnet), and which
force was accompanied by 300 Portuguese cavalry. The expedition was
unsuccessful, the Sultan’s troops were defeated, and, according
to the narrative, not one of the Christian horsemen returned from
the disaster. It seems highly improbable that the Portuguese should
have taken part in such an affair if their troops had not at the
time been stationed somewhere in the interior.
After Leo Africanus but little of a definite kind is to be learned
from subsequent writers as to the geography of South Marocco. In
1791 the reigning Sultan applied to General O’Hara, then Governor
of Gibraltar, for the assistance of an English physician to treat
his favourite son, Mouley Absalom, who was at the time governing
the province of Sous. Mr. Lempriere, an army-surgeon, undertook
the office, and travelled by the west coast to Agadir, and thence
to Tarudant. After successfully treating his patient, he was partly
induced, and partly forced, to travel to the city of Marocco, whence,
after considerable delay and difficulty, he succeeded in returning
to Gibraltar. Mr. Lempriere probably travelled across the Atlas by
the road from Tarudant to Imintanout, but his narrative supplies
little information to the geographer. He speaks of the distance
from Tarudant to the northern foot of the Atlas as an easy journey
of three days, and describes the track as leading beneath and along
tremendous precipices.
Frequent reference is made in the text to Jackson’s ‘Account
of the Empire of Marocco,’ of which the first edition appeared
in 1809, and the third in 1814. This is undoubtedly the fullest and
most correct modern work on Southern Marocco. Jackson spent sixteen
years in the country, chiefly at Mogador and Agadir; he acquired
the familiar use of the Moorish Arabic, and seems to have obtained
merited influence among the natives. Either because he had but little
taste for exploration, or because he found the difficulties too
serious, Jackson has added little to our knowledge of the geography
of the country. His map, though it contains some corrections, is on
the whole inferior to that of Chénier, published a century earlier.
A definite contribution to the slight existing amount of positive
knowledge was made by the late Admiral Washington, then a lieutenant
in the navy, who accompanied the late Sir J. Drummond Hay on his
mission to the city of Marocco in the winter of 1829-1830. His
paper, published in the first volume of the ‘Journal of the Royal
Geographical Society,’ is frequently referred to in our text;
and in the accompanying map the positions of several points in the
interior of the country were accurately laid down from astronomical
observation.
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:
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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.’]
[Footnote 6: This must have been from native report, as the
expedition was made in winter. If he had said that the snow never
quite disappears, and sometimes falls heavily, even in summer,
his statement would have been accurate enough.]
[Footnote 7: Mentioned in the text at p. 294.]
[Footnote 8: This is evidently the river Ziz of Leo Africanus;
and in his time, as at the present day, travellers going from Fez
to Segelmese (modern Tafilelt) followed the course of the Ziz, or
Siss. He also speaks of a river Ghir, which may possibly have been
the affluent of the Siss mentioned by Rohlfs; but the particulars
given are vague and scanty. It is interesting to remark that in
Leo’s day the valley of the Siss was inhabited by a hardy and
energetic Bereber tribe named Zanaga, probably the same as the
Azanegues whom Cà da Mosto found about Oued Noun. They have since
migrated across the Sahara, and still calling themselves Zanega,
and speaking a Bereber dialect, are dangerous neighbours to the
negro tribes of the Senegal.]
[Footnote 9: A portion of this map, containing the coast of Africa
from the Straits of Gibraltar to the latitude of the Canary Islands,
was published (in facsimile) by Count Baldelli Boni of Florence
in his edition of Marco Polo, and is reproduced in Mr. Major’s
valuable work, ‘The Life of Prince Henry the Navigator.’ London,
1868.]
[Footnote 10: Afrikanische Reisen, von Gerhard Rohlfs. Bremen, 1867.]
[Footnote 11: The scope of these remarks being limited to the
geography of South Marocco, I have not noticed several recent
publications, not devoid of interest and value, but in which no
important contribution is made to our geographical knowledge. We
have referred in the text to papers by MM. Beaumier, Balansa,
and Lambert, in the Bulletin of the French Geographical Society. A
more considerable work, entitled ‘Morocco and the Moors,’ by
Arthur Leared, M.D., appeared in 1874. It contains much information
carefully collected by the author, along with a lively account of
his own experiences, but circumstances prevented him from entering
on new ground.]
* * * * *
APPENDIX D.
ON SOME OF THE ECONOMIC PLANTS OF MAROCCO.
BY JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER.
_Gum Ammoniacum._
Our endeavours to obtain accurate information regarding the Marocco
gum ammoniac plant were ceaseless and fruitless. Jackson, who
gives a rude figure of a portion of a leaf and a scanty description
(‘Account of the Empire of Marocco,’ 136, t. 7), says that it is
the produce of a plant like Fennel, but larger, and called Fashook in
Arabic, and that it grows in the plains of the interior provinces,
abounding in the north of the city of Marocco, in a sandy light
soil. Jackson further states that neither bird nor beast is seen
where this plant grows, the vulture only excepted, and that it is
attacked by a beetle having a long horn proceeding from its nose,
with which it perforates the plant, and makes the incisions whence
the gum oozes out. Under his description of the vulture, he states
that, with the exception of the ostrich, this is the largest bird
in Marocco; that it is common in all places where the gum ammoniac
grows, as in the plains east of El Araiche,[1] where he has seen
at least twenty of these birds in the air at once, darting down on
the insects with astonishing rapidity (p. 118). Jackson’s figure
(t. 8) of the so-called beetle apparently represents a dipterous
insect resembling a Bombylius, with a very long straight proboscis.
Lindley (‘Flora Medica,’ 46) doubtfully refers Jackson’s
Fashook to the eastern _Ferula orientalis_ L.; and Flückiger
and Hanbury (‘Pharmacographie,’ 289) say that, according to
Lindley, the _Ferula tingitana_ yields a milky gum resin, having
some resemblance to Ammoniacum, which is an object of traffic with
Egypt and Arabia, where it is employed like the ancient drug in
fumigations. The authors go on to say that there can be but little
doubt that the Maroccan Ammoniacum is identical with that of the
ancients, and that it may well have been imported by way of Cyrene
from regions lying farther westward.
Pliny and Dioscorides say that the Ammoniacum is the juice of a
Narthex growing about Cyrene and Libya, and that it is produced in
the neighbourhood of the temple of Ammon.
Dr. Leared (‘Morocco and the Moors,’ 356) was informed that the
Fashook grows at a place two days’ journey from Mogador, on the
road to the city of Marocco,[2] but states that the exudation from
the roots of specimens which he obtained differed from the African
Ammoniacum. We, on the other hand, were persistently assured that
it grew nowhere along that route, nor nearer to it than El Araiche,
north of Marocco city. And this is confirmed by information obtained
by Mr. R. Drummond Hay to the effect that it is found near Marocco,
and chiefly around Tedla. The Moors who gave us this information at
once recognised the figure by Jackson, and called the plant Kilch
(Kelth according to Leared). The roots presented to Kew by the
kindness of Dr. Leared did not make any indications of growth.
The Maroccan Ammoniacum plant must not be confounded with the Persian
_Dorema Ammoniacum_, or ‘Ushak,’ which is also bled by insects.
The Fashook gum is used by the Moors and by some Orientals as a
depilatory, and in skin diseases; it is exported to the East from
Mazagan, _viâ_ Gibraltar and Alexandria.
_Euphorbium, Furbiune or Dergmuse._
_Euphorbia resinifera_.—Berg. und Schmidt, Officinelle
Gerwächse, v. iv. (1863) xxxiv. d.; Flückiger and Hanbury,
Pharmacographia, 502; Cosson, in Bull. Soc. Bot. Fr. xxi. 163;
Ball, in Journ. Linn. Soc. Bot. xvi. 661; Euphorbium, Jackson’s
‘Account of the Empire of Marocco,’ 134, t. 6 (left-hand
figure only).
We have little to add to the description of the Euphorbium tree given
by Jackson, and that in the ‘Pharmacographia’ cited above. As
stated in the body of this work it is confined to the interior of
the empire, and the only living specimens we met with were from
a garden in Mesfiouia (see p. 163). Jackson confounded two plants
under this name; one, the true species, growing in the Atlas, with
3-4-angled branches, the other a sea-coast plant, with 9-10-angled
branches, which is carried to Marocco for tanning purposes, and
of which he says, that during the three years of his residence at
Agadir he never saw any gum upon it.
The true plant is figured and described by Jackson as an erect tree,
with a stout short woody trunk, and very numerous upcurved long
sparingly divided branches, the whole resembling a candelabrum. The
angles of the branches are armed with short spines, and the flowers
are produced from the tips of the young shoots. The thorns adhere
to everything that touches them, and he supposes them to have been
intended by nature ‘to prevent cattle from eating this caustic
plant, which they always avoid on account of its prickles.’ The
juice flows from incisions made with a knife, and hardens and drops
off in September. The plants, he says, produce abundantly once only
in four years, and the fourth year’s produce is more than all
Europe can consume. The people who collect the gum are obliged to tie
a cloth over their mouths and nostrils, to prevent the small dusty
particles from annoying them, as they produce incessant sneezing.
The history of the Euphorbium as given in the ‘Pharmacographia’
is, that it was known to both Dioscorides and Pliny as a native of
the Atlas, and was named in honour of Euphorbus, physician to the
learned King Juba II. of Mauritania, himself the author of treatises
on Opium and Euphorbium.
The prevalence of cactoid _Euphorbiæ_ in Marocco, of which there
are three species in the southern districts, is a similar instance
to that of the Argan, of tropical forms advancing far north in the
extreme west of the old world; and as the Argan has its nearest ally
in Madeira, so have the Maroccan Euphorbiums close congeners in
the Canary Islands. All these belong to the section _Diacanthium_
of Boissier, of which the other species are Abyssinian, Arabian,
Indian, and South African.
Gum Euphorbium was extensively used by early practitioners as an
emetic and purgative, and was exported in large quantities; now,
however, the trade in it is rapidly declining, and we were informed
that it is chiefly used in veterinary practice, and as an ingredient
in a paint for the preservation of ships’ bottoms.
_Euphorbia resinifera_ is in cultivation at Kew, where specimens may
be seen both in the Succulent-plant House and Economic-plant House.
_The Arar, Thuja or Gum Sandrac Tree._
_Callitris quadrivalvis_.—Ventenat, Nov. Gen. Decad. 10; Richard,
Conif. 46, t. 8, f. 1; Endlich, Synops. Conif. 41; Parlatore, in
DC. Prod. xvi. pars 2, 452; Ball, in Journ. Linn. Soc. Bot. xvi.,
670.
_Thuja articulata_.—Shaw’s ‘Travels in Barbary,’ 462, with
a plate; Vahl, Symb. ii. 96, t. 48; Desf. Flor. Atlant. ii. 353,
t. 252.
_Frenela Fontanesii_.—Mirbel, in Mem. Mus. xiii. 74.
This tree is a native of the mountains of North Africa, from
the Atlantic to Eastern Algeria; but we are not aware whether
its eastern limit has ever been accurately determined. It has no
congener, its nearest ally being a South African genus of Cypresses
(_Widdringtonia_), of which several species are recorded from the
Cape Colony, Natal, and Madagascar, and which differ in having
alternate leaves and many ovules to each scale.
The great interest attached to this plant arises from the beauty and
durability of the wood, which, there is every reason to believe,
was known to the ancients from the earliest times, under the
name of Thuja. It is thus hypothetically, but probably correctly,
identified with the θυῖον[3] of the Odyssey (ii. 6), with the θυῖον
and θυία of Theophrastus (‘Hist. Pl.’ v. 5), and the thyine wood of
the Revelations (xviii. 12). It is undoubtedly the Citrus wood of
the Romans, and the Alerce of the Spaniards; the latter name being
derived from the Moors of Marocco, for it is not a native of Spain.
The first botanical notice of the Callitris is in Shaw’s
‘Travels in Barbary,’ where it is figured and briefly described
as _Thuja articulata_ (462); and for its identification with the
Alerce we are indebted to the late Mr. Drummond Hay when Consul
of Tangier, who, further, sent a plank of the wood to the Royal
Horticultural Society.[4] At about the same time, the attention of
a most intelligent traveller, the late Capt. S. E. Cook (afterwards
Widdrington), was attracted by the wood of the cathedral of Cordova
(formerly a mosque built by the Moors in the ninth century) called
Alerce, which differed from any Spanish wood, or any other wood
now used in Spain. Coupling this name with the communication made
by Mr. Drummond Hay to the Horticultural Society, Capt. Cook was
enabled to identify the Cordova wood with the Callitris, which,
as he assumes, was brought from Marocco, to roof a mosque intended
to be second in sanctity only to that of Mecca.
Except in a garden at Tangier, we saw no specimen of the Callitris
approaching a large size, or capable of yielding the beams which we
were shown in the ceilings and roofs of buildings in that town and
elsewhere, and which are considered to be indestructible. On the
contrary, most of the native specimens we saw in Southern Marocco
resembled small Cypresses, with very sparse foliage and branches,
and were apparently shoots from the stumps of trees that had been
cut or burnt down, though possibly their impoverished habit may
have been due to the sterility of the soil. The largest were in the
Ourika valley, and were about thirty feet high (see p. 177). In
many cases the stem swelled out at the very base into a roundish
mass half buried in soil, which is said to attain even four feet
in diameter, though we saw none approaching that size.
It is the basal portion, whether the result of mutilation or natural
growth, that affords the wood so prized by ancients and moderns,
and which forms a most valuable article of export from Algiers to
Paris, where small articles of furniture, &c., are made of it and
sold at very high prices.
Under the name of Citrus wood, it is alluded to, according
to Daubeny, by Martial and Lucan, and by Horace (‘Carm.’
lib. iv. Od. 1), who suggests its employment as the most precious
commodity that could be selected for a temple in which a marble
statue of Venus should be placed:—
Albanos, prope te, lacus
Ponet marmoream sub trabe citrea;
Also Petronius Arbiter, descanting upon the luxury of the Romans,
seems to represent it as worth more than its weight in gold, when
he says—
Ecce Afris eruta terris
Ponitur, ac maculis imitatur vilius aurum
Citrea mensa.
For a detailed description of what was known of this tree to the
ancients, and of its value, we must refer to the description in Pliny
(‘Nat. Hist.’ book xiii. chaps. 29, 30). This author describes
it as the thyion and thyia of Homer and the Greeks, and adds that
its wood was used with the unguents burnt for their pleasant odour
by Circe; as also that Theophrastus awarded a high rank to it, the
timber being used for roofing temples and being indestructible; as
also that it is produced in the lower part of Cyrenaica, and that
the finest kind grows in the vicinity of the temple of Jupiter Ammon.
Pliny himself gives Mount Atlas as the native country of the wood;
in the vicinity of which, he says, is Mauritania, a country in which
abounds a tree which has given rise to the mania for fine tables,
an extravagance with which women reproach the men when they complain
of their vast outlay upon pearls. He attributes the knots from which
the tables are made to a disease or excrescence of the roots, of
which the most esteemed are entirely concealed under ground, these
being much more rare than those which are produced above ground,
and that are to be found on the branches also.
The principal merits of the tables were to have veins arranged in
waving lines, or forming spirals like whirlpools. The former they
called ‘tiger’ and the latter ‘panther’ tables; whilst
others, which are highly esteemed, have markings resembling the
eyes on a peacock’s tail. In others, again, called ‘apiatæ,’
the wood appears as if covered with dense masses of grain. The most
esteemed colour was that of wine mixed with honey.
In respect of their size, Pliny gives a little over 4 ft. as
the average maximum, though one that belonged to Ptolemæus,
King of Mauritania, was 4½ ft. in diameter and ¼ of a foot in
thickness. It was formed of two semi-diameters so skilfully united
that the joining was concealed. Another, made of a single piece,
was named after Nonius, a freedman of Tiberius Cæsar, and was 4
ft. less ¾ in. in diameter, and 5¼ inches in thickness. And with
regard to the price, Cicero paid a million sesterces (9,000_l_.) for
one; two belonging to King Juba were sold by auction, one for one
million two hundred thousand sesterces, and the other for somewhat
less. Some of Pliny’s statements are probably fabulous; as that
the barbarians bury the wood when green, first giving it a coating
of wax, and that the workmen, when it comes into their hands, put
it for seven days beneath a heap of corn, and then take it out for
as many more, after which it is surprising to find how much it has
lost in weight. More apocryphal still is his statement that it is
dried by the action of sea-water, and thereby acquires a hardness
and density that render it proof against corruption; also that, as
if created for the behoof of wine, it receives no injury from it.[5]
In Marocco, where no ornament or article of luxury is known,
it need hardly be said that the Alerce wood is employed only for
building purposes and fire-wood; though the resin called Sandarach,
which was once a reputed medicine, is collected by the Moors and
exported from Mogador to Europe, where it is used as a varnish.
_Gum Arabic._
_Acacia gummifera_.—Willd. Sp. Pl. iv. 1056; DC. Prod. ii. 455;
Hayne, Arzneigew. x. t. 8; Benth. in Trans. Linn. Soc. xxx. 509;
Ball, in Journ. Linn. Soc. Bot. xvi. 442.
_Mimosa gummifera_.—Brouss. in Poir. Dict. Suppl. i. 164.
_Acacia coronillæfolia_.—Desf. Cat. Hort. Par. ed. ii. 207.
_Mimosa coronillæfolia_.—Pers. Encheirid. n. 44.
_Sassa gummifera_.—Gmel Syst. ex DC. 1. c.
Of this plant very little indeed is known, and we were unfortunately
unable to find either flower or fruit of the only Acacia which we
met with on our visit to Marocco, and which we were assured was
the Gum Arabic plant (Alk Tlah) of that country. It is interesting
as representing the northern limit of distribution of the immense
genus Acacia in Africa. Our specimens, such as they are, coincide
perfectly with the description of _Acacia gummifera_ in Willdenow,
and with the excellent figure in Hayne, which was taken from
specimens collected by Broussonet near Mogador. We found the plant
abundantly in the lower region of Southern and Western Marocco,
occurring as a thorny bush, along with _Rhus pentaphylla_ and other
shrubs. That it was the plant producing the Marocco Gum Arabic the
natives consistently testified, though this could not be inferred
from the description in Jackson’s ‘Account of the Empire of
Marocco’ p. 136, who says of the gum that it ‘is produced from a
high thorny tree called Attalet, having leaves similar to the Arar,
or gum Sandarac tree, and the Juniper.’ Jackson goes on to say:—
‘The best kind of Barbary gum is procured from the trees
of Marocco, Ras-el-wed, in the province of Abda; the secondary
qualities are the produce of Shedma, Duquella, and other provinces;
the tree grows abundantly in the Atlas mountains, and is found also
in Bled-el-jerrêde. The gum, when new, emits a faint smell, and,
when stowed in the warehouse, it is heard to crack spontaneously
for several weeks; and this cracking is the surest criterion of new
gum, as it never does so when old; there is, however, scarcely any
difference in the quality. The Attaleh is not so large a tree as the
Arar, which produces the Sandarac gum, nor does it reach the size
of the Auwar tree, which produces the gum Senegal. It has a low
crooked stem, and its branches, from the narrowness of its leaves
(long and scanty), have a harsh, withered, and unhealthy appearance
at the time it yields the most gum—that is, during the hot and
parching months of July and August; but although not an ornamental
tree, it is a most useful plant, and will always be considered
valuable. Its wood is hard, and takes a good polish; its seeds,
which are enclosed in a pericarpium, resemble those of the Lupin,
yield a reddish dye, and are used by the tanners in the preparation
of leather. These seeds attract goats, who are very fond of eating
them. The more sickly the tree appears, the more gum it yields; and
the hotter the weather, the more prolific it is. A wet winter and
a cool or mild summer are unfavourable to the production of gum.’
As observed in the body of this work, the gum does not seem to be
collected in the western portion of its range in South Marocco, but
in Demnet, whence it is brought to Mogador; and it may very well be
that it is only in the hotter and drier regions of the interior that
the gum is produced in sufficient quantities to be worth collecting.
It is remarkable that no notice whatever of _Acacia gummifera_ occurs
in Flückiger and Hanbury’s invaluable ‘Pharmacographia’
(1874), where the Marocco gum is supposed to be the produce of
_Acacia arabica_ Willd., a plant which extends from Nubia to
Natal, and eastward to Central India, but which is not known as a
native of Marocco. In another passage of the above work (p. 211),
the ‘Marocco, Mogador, or brown Barbary gum,’ is described
as consisting ‘of tears of moderate size, often vermiform, and
of a rather uniform light dusky brown tint. The tears, which are
internally glassy, become cracked on the surface and brittle if
kept in a warm room; they are perfectly soluble in water.’
It is possible that the _Acacia arabica_, which is found in Senegal,
may extend to the Sous Valley, and be the source of some of the
Marocco gum; and that more than one species producing gum are
confounded together by the Moors; this is the natural inference from
Jackson’s account, itself anything but explicit. On the other hand,
I am informed in a letter lately received from Mr. R. Drummond Hay,
H.B.M. Consul at Mogador, who has kindly had inquiries made for
me, that the _Acacia arabica_ (Alk Awarwhal) is not found in Sous,
no tree of the kind existing either north or south of the Atlas,
but that its gum is brought from Soodan by Arabs, and is of inferior
quality to that of the _Acacia gummifera_. Mr. Hay further informs
me that the _Acacia gummifera_ grows chiefly in the provinces of
Blad Hamar, Rahamma, and Sous.
As stated above, the specimens which we collected of _Acacia
gummifera_ precisely accord with the published description and
drawing; but we have others under this name from Mr. Cosson’s
collector, Ibrahim, gathered near Mogador and at Ouanyna, which
differ in having very short spines, ⅙ to ¼ in. long, whilst
those of our plant are from ⅔ to ¾ in. long and much stouter.
Very small plants of _Acacia gummifera_ are living at Kew, raised
from seeds obligingly presented by Mr. Cosson. They grow exceedingly
slowly, and several have been lost by damping off. They are not in
a state fit for exhibition.
_The Argan Tree._
_Argania Sideroxylon_.—Roem. and Sch. Syst. Veg. iv. 502;
Alph. DC. Prod. viii. 187; Hook. in Kew Journ. Bot. vi. (1854)
97, t. iii. iv.; De Noé, in Rev. Hort. 1853, 125; Ball, in
Journ. Linn. Soc. Bot. xvi. 563.
_Sideroxylon spinosum_.—Linn. Hort. Cliff. 69 (excl. syn. et loc.);
Correa, in Ann. Mus. Hist. Nat. viii. 393.
_Rhamnus siculus_.—Linn. Syst. Nat. ed. 12, iii. 227, excl. syn.,
non Bocc.
_R. pentaphyllus_.—Linn. Syst. Nat. ed. Gmel. 398,
fid. Dryandr. excl. syn. Bocc.
_Elæodendron Argan_.—Retz Obs. Bot. vi. 26;
Willd. Sp. Pl. i. 1148, excl. syn. Jacq. and Bocc.; Schousboe,
Iagttag. over væxtrig. in Marocc. 89.
_Argan_.—Dryandr. in Trans. Linn. Soc. ii. 225.
This tree is rightly regarded as the most interesting vegetable
production of Marocco, being confined to that empire and to a very
circumscribed area in it, belonging to an almost exclusively tropical
natural family, yielding a most important article of diet to the
inhabitants, and a wood that for hardness and durability rivals any
hitherto described. The earliest account of the Argan tree known to
us is a brief one by the celebrated African traveller Leo Africanus,
who visited Marocco in 1510. Speaking of some of the customs of the
Moors, Leo Africanus says: ‘Unto their Argans (for so they call
a kind of olive which they have) they put nuts; out of which two
simples they express a very bitter oil, using it for a sauce to some
of their meats, and pouring it into their lamps’ (‘Purchas,’
ii. 772). And in another passage he describes the oil correctly,
as ‘of a fulsome and strong savour.’ The further history of
the Argan tree is given in a very full and careful account by the
late Sir W. Hooker, in the ‘London Journal of Botany’ for 1854
(vol. vi. p. 97, Tab. iii. iv.), which, as the work is of limited
circulation, we here introduce.
‘Through the kindness and by the exertions of the Earl of
Clarendon, Chief Secretary for Foreign Affairs, the Royal Gardens
of Kew have been put in possession of living plants and fresh seeds
of a tree or shrub very little known in Europe, little known even
to botanists, but highly esteemed by the Moors, in those parts of
Marocco where it is a native, for its useful qualities, viz. the
“Argan.” Its economical properties are best explained by the
copy of a letter which his Lordship did me the favour to communicate
along with the plants and seeds, from Henry Grace, Esq., British
Acting Vice-Consul at Mogador, addressed to J. H. Drummond Hay,
Esq., Her Britannic Majesty’s Agent and Consul-General at Tangier;
both of which gentlemen spared no pains in procuring the information
and seeds and living specimens; an example we should be glad to
see followed by our consuls in other countries abounding in new
and useful plants.
‘“Mogador, November 7, 1853.
‘“Sir,—The Argan tree grows more or less throughout the states
of Western Barbary, but principally in the province of Haha, and
south of this town. The soil in which it is found is light, sandy,
and very strong; it is usually seen upon the hills, which are barren
of all else, and where irrigation is impossible.
‘“I should imagine, from the appearance of some of the
trees, that they are from one to two hundred years old; and a
remarkably large one in this neighbourhood is probably at least
three hundred. This individual measures 26 ft. round the trunk;
at the height of three feet it branches off; the branches (one
of which measures 11 ft. in circumference near the trunk) rest
upon the ground, extending about 15 ft. from the trunk, and again
ascend. The highest branch of this tree is not more than 16 ft. to
18 ft. from the ground, while the outer branches spread so as to
give a circumference of 220 ft.: this is the largest I am aware of.
‘“The mode of propagation, in this vicinity, is mostly by
seed. When sowing this, a little manure is placed with it, and it is
well watered until it shoots; from which period it requires nothing
further. In from three to five years after sowing it bears fruit,
which ripens between May and August (according to the situation of
the tree). The roots extend a great distance underground, and shoots
make their appearance at intervals, which are allowed to remain,
thus doing away with the necessity of transplanting or sowing. When
the fruit ripens, herds of goats, sheep, and cows are driven thither;
a man beats the tree with a long pole, and the fruits fall and are
devoured voraciously by the cattle. In the evening they are led home,
and, when comfortably settled in their yards, they commence chewing
the cud and throw out the nuts, which are collected each morning
as soon as the animals have departed upon their daily excursion. I
have heard it remarked that the nut passes through the stomach; but
this is only a casualty, and not a general rule. Large quantities
of the fruit are likewise collected by women and children: they are
well dried, and the hull is taken off, and stored for the camels
and mules travelling in the winter, being considered very nutritious.
‘“The process of extracting the oil is very simple. The nuts
are cracked by the women and children (and not a few fingers
suffer at the same time, owing to the want of proper tools, for
the nuts are very hard, and a stone is the only implement used);
the kernels are then parched in a common earthen vessel, ground
in handmills of this country, and put into a pan; a little cold
water is sprinkled upon them, and they are well worked up by the
hand (much the same as kneading dough) until the oil separates,
when the refuse is well pressed in the hand, which completes the
process. The oil is left to stand, and the sediment removed. The
cake (in which a great deal of oil remains, owing to the want of
a proper press) is generally given to the milch cows or goats.
‘“I never heard of any part being used as manure, but I have
no doubt it would form an excellent one.
‘“Some of these Argans grow in clusters, others are in single
trees.
‘“I have, &c.,
(Signed)‘“ HENRY GRACE.
_‘“To J. H. Drummond Hay, Esq., &c. &c.”’_
‘Except a brief notice of the exportation into Europe of Argan
oil by the Danish Councillor of State, Georges Höst, who travelled
in the kingdoms of Marocco and Fez during the years 1766-1768, the
only published account of the uses of the Argan is given in a very
little known Danish work, published by P. K. A. Schousboe, entitled
“Iagttagelser over Væxtriget i Marokko. Forste Stycke. Kiobnhavn,
1800, 4, 7 Tab.,” of which a German edition appeared in 1801,
in 8vo, by J. A. Markussen. It gives an account of some Marocco
plants; and, after an introductory sketch of the physical geography
of Marocco, it contains descriptions of the plants of the country
in Latin and German, with occasional observations in German. The
account of the Argan under Retz’s name of _Elæodendron Argan_
is long: first comes a technical description, followed by a history
of its synonymy, and then the following notes (kindly translated
for us by Mr. Bentham):—
‘“It is surprising that this tree should hitherto have been so
little known; as it is found in a country near Europe, and visited
by many travellers, who speak in their diaries and descriptions
of oil of Argan and of Argan trees, these last as constituting
a considerable proportion of the forests of the country. It is,
however, not to be met with in the northern provinces, but only
towards the south. All those persons, from whom I have sought more
accurate information on the subject, are unanimous in stating that it
only grows between the rivers Tansif and Sus—that is, between the
29° and 32° N. lat.—and there constitutes forests of considerable
extent. It flowers in the middle of June, and the fruit remains on
the tree the greater part of the year. The young fruit sets in the
end of July or beginning of August, and grows slowly till the rainy
season commences, towards the end of September. It now enlarges
rapidly and attains its full size during that season, so as that
by the middle or end of March it is ripe enough to be gathered
for economical uses. Both the fruit and the wood are serviceable,
but especially the former; for from the kernel an oil is extracted
which is much employed for domestic purposes by the Moors, and is
an important production of the country, as it saves much olive oil,
which can thus be thrown into commerce, and made to bring money into
the country. It is calculated that in the whole Argan region one
thousand hundredweight of oil is annually consumed, thus setting
free an equal quantity of olive oil for exportation to Europe. Our
countryman, Höst, in his ‘Efterretninger om Marokos,’ p. 285,
says that the Argan oil is exported to Europe, where it is used in
manufactures. Such may have been the case in former times when it
might be cheaper; but now there would be no advantage in doing so,
as it costs almost as much as olive oil. At present, no Argan oil
whatever is exported.
‘“As the practice in preparing this oil is somewhat different
from that of common olive oil, it may be useful to enter into some
details on the subject. I have myself been present during the whole
operation, and consequently speak from experience.
‘“In the end of March the countryman goes into the wood,
where the fruits are shaken down from the trees and stripped of
their husks on the spot. The green fleshy pericarp, which is good
for nothing else, is greedily eaten by ruminating animals, such
as camels, goats, sheep, and cows, but especially by the first
two. Therefore, when the Arab goes into the woods to collect Argan
nuts, he gladly takes with him his herds of the above animals,
that they may eat their fill of the green husks whilst he and
his family are collecting and shelling the nuts. The horse, the
ass, and the mule, on the contrary, do not like this food. When a
sufficient quantity of nuts are collected they are brought home,
the hard wooden shell is cracked between stones, and the inner white
kernels are carefully extracted. These are roasted or burnt like
coffee on earthen, stone, or iron plates; in order that they may not
be too much done, they are constantly stirred with a stick. When
properly roasted they should be all over of a brown colour, but
not charred on the outside. The smoke, which is disengaged during
the process, has a very agreeable odour. As soon as the kernels
have cooled, they are ground in a handmill into a thick meal, not
unlike that of pounded almonds, only that it is of a brown colour,
and the meal is put into a vessel in which the oil is separated,
which is done by sprinkling the mass now and then with hot water,
and keeping it constantly stirred and kneaded with the hand. This
process is carried on until the mass becomes so hard that it can no
longer be kneaded: the harder and firmer are the residuary coarse
parts, the more completely is the oil extracted. At the last,
cold water is sprinkled upon it, in order, as they say, to expel
the last particles of the oil. During the operation the oil runs
out at the sides, and is from time to time poured into a clean
vessel. The main point to be attended to in order to extract the
greatest quantity and the best quality of oil, is that it should
be well kneaded, and that the proper proportion of hot water for
the extraction of the oil should be used; it is always safer to be
sparing of it than to be too profuse. The residuary mass, often as
hard as a stone, is of a black-brown colour, and has a disagreeable
bitter flavour. The oil itself, when it has settled, is clear, of
a light brown colour, and has a rancid smell and flavour. When it
is used without other preparations in cooking, it has a stimulating
and pungent taste which is long felt on the gums. The vapour which
arises when anything is fried in it, affects the lungs and occasions
coughing. The common people use it generally without preparation;
but in better houses it is the custom, in order to take off that
pungency, to mix it previously with water, or to put a bit of bread
into it and let it simmer before the fire.
‘“The wood, which is hard, tough, fine-grained, and of a yellow
colour, is used in house carpentry, and for other purposes.”’
‘We have been at some pains to distribute the seeds of this plant,
with which we have been liberally supplied, to various parts of the
East Indies, and to such of our Colonies as appeared suited to the
growth of this tree, in respect of climate, &c. It is impossible
for seeds to be in better condition; and though the surrounding
hard portion of the nut is as thick and solid as that of hickory,
those which we ourselves sowed sprouted in less than a month from
the time they were put in the ground. The young trees bore the rough
treatment of the voyage in midwinter remarkably well; and it is easy
to see that this is a plant of ready culture in favourable climates.
‘The value of the husks of the fruit as food for cattle, and the
uses of the wood, are mentioned in the above extracts. The nature
of the oil seems only to have been considered in relation to olive
oil. But vegetable oils are now so much in demand, especially by
Messrs. Price & Co., for their great candle-works at Vauxhall, as
well as at Birkenhead, near Liverpool, that I was anxious to know
the opinion of Mr. G. F. Wilson, the scientific director of those
vast establishments, on the nature of Argan oil. Some seeds were
consequently communicated to that gentleman, and he lost no time
in experimenting upon them, and assuring me that “they contain a
large percentage of a very fine oil. We have tried it in several
ways, in each case with a favourable result. Some is now being
exposed to a severe test, to show how the air acts upon it: I have,
however, little fear but that it will answer. Our city friends are
inquiring for us the best means of getting a ton or two of the nuts
for experiments on a large scale. The only unfavourable point I
see is the small weight of kernel to that of hard shell:—
6 Nuts gave—kernel 30 grains
„ „ hard shell 350 grains
„ „ outer husk 193 grains.
The hard shell probably should be sent home with the seed when
the kernels are required to yield a sweet oil; for unless prepared
with great care, hardly to be expected in a wild country, the oil
would not be nearly so sweet if sent home expressed, instead of in
its kernel and shell. Perhaps if the kernel is pounded and rammed
tightly into casks, we might obtain sweet oil without great waste
in freight.”
‘In a botanical point of view this plant is scarcely of less
interest than in an economical. It has had the hard fate, often
the consequence of being with difficulty procured, to be much
misunderstood, and, except by Schousboe, to be imperfectly described;
and references are given in works to plants as being identical which
have no relationship with it; or to descriptions which, if the same,
exhibit little or no resemblance.
‘The first botanist who appears to have noticed this plant
is Linnæus, who, in the _Hortus Cliffortianus_, in 1737,
described it, from dried specimens, under the name of _Sideroxylon
spinosum_. “From Clifford’s Herbarium,” observes Mr. Dryander,
“now in the possession of Sir Joseph Banks, the Argan was taken up
by Linné in his _Hortus Cliffortianus_; though most of the synonyms
are wrong, and consequently the _locus natalis_ (_utraque India_)
which is deduced from them. The specimen in Linné’s Herbarium,
under the name of _Sideroxylon spinosum_, is without flowers, and it
is impossible to tell you with any certainty what it is. Clifford’s
Herbarium is therefore the only authority by which this species can
be ascertained.” Linnæus’s _Rhamnus siculus_, in the Appendix
to the third volume of the twelfth edition of the _Systema Naturæ_,
is, we are assured by Mr. Dryander, “the Argan, or Olive-tree of
Marocco (see Höst’s ‘Efterretninger om Marokos,’ p. 284),
as appears from the specimen in Linné’s Herbarium, which has a
ticket affixed, with the name of Argan of Marocco, and which I have
also compared with specimens in Sir Joseph Banks’s Herbarium from
Marocco.” The description, too, of Linnæus is very correct. He
errs only in considering the plant to be the same as the _Rhamnus
Siculus pentaphyllos_ of Boccone (_Rhus pentaphyllum_, Desf.), which
has _folia quinata_, which latter he introduces into the specific
character, but not into the description; and he erroneously followed
Boccone in giving Sicily as the native country in addition to Africa,
and in adopting the specific name _Siculus_.
‘In the _Species Plantarum_ of Linnæus, Malabar alone is mentioned
as the native country of the _Sideroxylon spinosum_. Nevertheless,
with the exception of Willdenow, who rejects it altogether as
“planta valde dubia, forte nullibi obvia,” most of the older
authors adopt this name for the Argan of Marocco. Under it,
it appears in the first edition of _Hortus Kewensis_, with the
reference to _Species Plantarum_ of Linnæus, and to Commelyn,
_Hortus Amstelod_. tab. 83, where, however, nothing is said of its
native country, further than may be surmised by the name adopted
from Breynius’s “Lycio similis frutex Indicus spinosus, Buxi
folio” (which, as already observed, Willdenow considered to be
his _Flacourtia sepiaria_, from India), and of which the flowers
and fruit were unknown to the author. If this were the Argan,
it was in cultivation in Holland as early as 1697. At a period not
much later, viz. in 1711, according to the _Hortus Kewensis_, it was
introduced into England: “Cult. 1711, by the Duchess of Beaufort,
Br. Mus. H.S. 141, fol. 39.” It is indicated as a stove-plant.
‘Sir James Smith, article _Sideroxylon spinosum_ in Rees’s
“Cyclopædia” (1819), throws no new light upon the subject;
he omits the reference to Commelyn. Retz, in “Obs. Bot.”
vol. vi. p. 26, refers the plant to _Elæodendron_, in which he is
followed by Willdenow, and by Schousboe, which latter author has
given by far the fullest and best account of the plant botanically
and economically.
‘M. Corréa de Serra, “Annales du Museum d’Histoire
Naturelle,” 1809, tom. viii. p. 393, tab. v. f. l., has published
a very good analysis of the fruit, with very brief characters
and no observations. At length Mr. Brown, “Botanicorum facile
princeps,” in his invaluable Prodromus, under his Observations
on Sapoteæ, says, “_Sideroxylon spinosum_, L., fructu valde
diversum proprium hujus ordinis genus efficit;” and, acting upon
his suggestion, Rœmer and Schultes, “Systema Vegetabilium,”
vol. iv. pp. xlvi. and 502, have formed of this plant a new genus,
_Argania_, in which they have been followed by Endlicher and Alphonse
De Candolle. In this latter work a very full generic character is
given, which need not here be repeated.’
‘It is singular that no further allusion to this tree should
appear in Jackson’s “Account of the Empire of Marocco” than the
following: “Oil Arganic is also in abundance in Suse; it is much
used for frying fish and burning-lamps. When used for frying fish,
a quart of it should be boiled with a large onion cut in quarters;
and when it boils, a piece of the inside of a loaf, about the size
of an orange, should be put in; after which it should be taken
off the fire and let stand to cool, and when quite cold should be
strained through a sieve; without this precaution it is supposed
to possess qualities which promote leprosy.”—Dr. Barretta.’
The limited distribution of the Argan is one of its most noticeable
features, for as a genus it is not far removed from _Sideroxylon_,
a very widely spread tropical and subtropical genus of both
hemispheres, and which reaches its northern limit in Madeira
(in the same latitude as that attained by the Argan), where one
species, _S. Mermulana_, Lowe, is found on the rocky heights of
the interior. The order is not found in the Canary Islands, but
reappears in the Cape de Verdes in a species of _Sapota_, and
is well represented in the humid regions of Western Africa. It
would thus appear that _Argania_ and the Madeiran _Sideroxylon_
are two outlying representatives of a very tropical order; and,
considering the proximity of the areas they inhabit, and their
position in the extreme west of the Old World, they are, in a
Botanico-Geographical point of view, plants of a very high interest,
as evidences of a relationship between the Floras of these areas,
which must originally have been established under very different
conditions from those which now prevail.
The Argan was, as stated above, introduced into England in 1811,
and was long established on a south wall, but ultimately was killed
in an unusually severe winter. Numerous plants were raised, from seed
sent by Sir John Hay, by Mr. Grace, and from those brought by myself,
and the plant may be seen in the Economic-plant House at Kew. It is
of very slow growth, which has disappointed colonists and others,
to whom the fruits have been largely distributed from Kew.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Not El Araisch, SSW. of Tangier on the Atlantic coast,
but some place in the interior, and N. of the city of Marocco.]
[Footnote 2: This is no doubt _Elæoselinum humile_ (Ball), which
we found near or at the above defined locality. Ball formed a very
decided opinion that Jackson’s plant, whether the true Ammoniacum
or not, was a species of _Elæoselinum_.]
[Footnote 3: It is mentioned under this name by Homer in his
description of the Island of Calypso. See Daubeny _On the Trees
and Shrubs of the Ancients_, p. 42.]
[Footnote 4: See Cook’s _Sketches in Spain_, vol. i. p. 5 (1831);
and Loudon’s _Gardener’s Magazine_, Ser. ii. vol. iii. p. 522.]
[Footnote 5: See Bostock’s translation of Pliny, vol. iii. p. 194,
&c.]
* * * * *
APPENDIX E.
_On the Canarian Flora as compared with the Maroccan._
By JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER.
In respect of their botanical relationship to neighbouring
Continents, Islands or Archipelagos may be roughly classed under
two divisions: namely, those which are situated within a moderate
distance of continents, and whose Floras are manifestly derived
from them or have had a common origin with theirs; and those which
are situated very far from any continents, and whose Floras differ
so much either from that of the neighbouring continent or from that
of those parts of the continent that are nearest to them, that their
origin is a matter of speculation. Of the first division, the British
Isles, and probably Vancouver’s Island, in North-West America,
are conspicuous instances, their Floras being almost identical with
those of the neighbouring continents. St. Helena, the Galapagos,
Mauritius, and the Sandwich Islands are instances of the opposite
extreme, for their Floras differ widely from those of any continents.
Between these extreme cases there are many intermediate ones; and
there are others of an exceptional character, as Iceland, which,
though far removed from any part of Europe, has but one flowering
plant not found on that continent (_Platanthera hyperborea_);
and Ceylon, which though it is almost united to the Peninsula of
Hindostan, yet in many respects differs greatly from that peninsula
in its Flora.
Amongst the exceptional cases to continental proximity being
accompanied by close botanical relationship is the Flora of the
Canarian Archipelago, which differs so greatly from that of the
northern part of its neighbouring continent, namely, from that
of Marocco,[1] that it demands notice in any work treating of the
vegetation of the latter country.
This diversity between the Maroccan and Canarian Floras has
been pointed out in Ball’s ‘Introductory Observations to the
Spicilegium Floræ Maroccanæ,’[2] where it appears that whilst
Marocco, out of 1,627 species of flowering plants, contains 165
endemic plants, it has only 15 which are confined to it and to the
Canaries, or to it and Madeira. And Ball goes on to remark (p. 301),
in respect of these few species common to both Floras: ‘I think
it is safe to say that the facts rather tend to show the accidental
diffusion of a few Macaronesian[3] species on the adjacent coast of
Africa, than to indicate the direct connection between the continent
and those islands within a geological period at all recent.’
Were this diversity due solely or chiefly to the Canaries wanting
many Maroccan plants, the inquiry would not be a pressing one;
but as to this deficiency is to be added the presence in the
Canaries of many indigenous species, and even several genera[4]
which are absent in Marocco, and in Marocco the great rarity of
endemic genera, of which _Argania_ only is arboreous, the inquiry
becomes a very important one, inviting a much closer study than
can here be given to it.
The Flora of the Canarian Archipelago, though consisting, like the
Maroccan, for the most part of Mediterranean species, yet differs
from that of Marocco, in containing many plants that may be classed
under the following categories:—
I. It contains many non-Maroccan plants, obviously introduced by man,
and not from Europe only, but from various parts of both the Old and
New Worlds. This will not appear surprising when it is remembered
that Teneriffe was for several centuries the Prime Meridian of
Geographers and the resort of all the European ocean-navigators,
who took their departure from it on their outward voyages, and made
for it on their homeward ones. The _Alternanthera achyrantha_, a
tropical American plant, was no doubt imported into the Canaries,
and possibly from thence introduced into Spain (where it is now
naturalised). _Argemone mexicana_ is another, and there are still
other as conspicuous examples of such foreign introductions. This
maritime intercourse can, however, only partially account for the
remarkable disproportion between the number of probably introduced
plants in the Canaries and in Marocco; and we must take into account
the isolation, barbarism, and exclusiveness of the latter country,
and the absence of any commercial intercourse between it and the
Canaries or the rest of the world.
In Webb and Berthelot’s ‘Phytographia Canariensis’ upwards
of fifty plants are enumerated as to which we have little doubt
that all have been introduced by man, and none of which have
hitherto been found in Marocco. The list includes many weeds of the
widest tropical and temperate distribution, as species of _Sida_,
_Waltheria_, _Siegesbeckia_, _Bidens_, _Lippia_, _Physalis_,
_Nicandra_, _Euphorbia_, _Alternanthera_, _Commelyna_, and various
_Cyperaceæ_, and Grasses.
II. The Canaries contain many apparently indigenous plants, which,
though not Maroccan, are widely distributed elsewhere; these form
a large class, and the following are some of the most prominent
of them:—
Delphinium Staphysagria | Fragaria vesca
Hypecoum procumbens | Pyrus Aria
Biscutella auriculata | Prunus lusitanica
Viola canina | Epilobium palustre
Silene Behen | Anthemis fœtida
„ nutans | „ coronopifolia
Rhus Coriaria | Cynara horrida
Spartium junceum | Lactuca sylvestris
Ulex europæus | Cressa cretica
Medicago arborea | Calamintha Nepeta
Trigonella hamosa | Atriplex glauca
Trifolium striatum | Euphorbia serrata
„ squarrosum | „ obliquata
„ suffocatum | „ Lagascæ
„ filiforme | Orchis longibracteata
Lotus angustissimus | Ophrys tabanifera
Vicia hirsuta | Iris pallida
Lathyrus odoratus | Lilium candidum
Alchemilla arvensis |
together with various _Cyperaceæ_, Grasses and water-plants, some of
which, and of the above, will no doubt hereafter be found in Marocco.
III. They contain some quite peculiar plants which are more
closely allied to endemic species of Marocco than to those of
any other country, and may have been derived from species that
originally were transported from that country. These are but few,
and are almost confined to species of the genus _Monanthes_, which
is limited to these countries and the Cape de Verde Islands, of
Cactoid _Euphorbiæ_, of succulent _Sonchi_, and of the _Kleinia_
division of _Senecio_.
IV. They contain plants not found hitherto in Marocco, and which are
more closely allied to Mediterranean species than to any others;
and these form a very large class. The data for a complete list
would require a very careful comparison of the Maroccan species
with the species described in the ‘Phytographia’ and discovered
since, many of which are unquestionably founded on too slight or
too variable characters.[5]
It will be sufficient for present purposes to contrast the results
obtained from a selection of genera[6] taken for comparison
from Ball’s ‘Spicilegium’ with the same from Webb’s
‘Phytographia’:—
+----------------------------+----------------+----------------+
| | Canary Islands | Marocco |
| +-------+--------+-------+--------+
| Genera |Number |Species |Number |Species |
| | of |confined| of |confined|
| |species| to |species| to |
| |in each|Canaries|in each|Marocco |
+----------------------------+-------+--------+-------+--------+
|Hypericum | 8| 7| 7| 0|
|Matthiola | 4| 3| 3| 0|
|Cistus | 2| 1| 7| 0|
|Helianthemum | 6| 3| 14| 0|
|Polycarpia | 6| 4| 1| 0|
|Sempervivum | 23| 23| 1| 1|
|Cytisus | 11| 9| 11| 4|
|Lotus | 10| 6| 14| 2|
|Dorycnium | 3| 3| 1| 0|
|Rhamnus | 3| 3| 3| 0|
|Ilex | 2| 2| 0| 0|
|Chrysanthemum | 12| 12| 11| 4|
|Senecio | 9| 5| 11| 1|
|Doronicum | 5| 5| 0| 0|
|Tolpis | 5| 4| 2| 0|
|Sonchus | 17| 12| 6| 0|
|Convolvulus sect. Rhodorhiza| 5| 5| 0| 0|
|Echium | 12| 10| 9| 1|
|Micromeria[7] | 17| 17| 1| 0|
|Sideritis | 6| 5| 7| 2|
|Teucrium | 3| 1| 11| 4|
|Solanum | 6| 2| 2| 0|
|Scrophularia | 5| 3| 9| 1|
|Digitalis | 2| 2| 2| 0|
|Statice | 9| 9| 13| 3|
|Plantago | 10| 3| 11| 1|
|Beta | 3| 2| 1| 0|
|Euphorbia | 19| 9| 22| 6|
|Ephedra | 3| 2| 2| 0|
|Juniperus | 2| 1| 4| 0|
|Pinus | 1| 1| 1| 0|
|Ruscus | 2| 2| 1| 0|
|Asparagus | 5| 4| 6| 1|
|Scilla | 4| 4| 9| 0|
|Luzula | 3| 3| 1| 0|
| +-------+--------+-------+--------+
| | 243| 187=¾ | 204| 31=⅙ |
+----------------------------+-------+--------+-------+--------+
The disproportion between the two Floras in the case of these
selected genera is thus well shown. It is most remarkable; the number
of endemic species being in the Canaries three-fourths of the whole
and in Marocco only one-sixth; and were the peculiar genera of the
Canaries added, the disproportion would of course be increased.
The total number of Canarian species enumerated by Webb and Berthelot
is about 1,000, of which 367,[8] or more than one-third, are regarded
as peculiar to the Archipelago (a very few only of these being also
Madeiran); whereas out of 1,627 Maroccan species only 165, or a
little over one-tenth, are peculiar. Future discoveries will probably
not materially increase the Maroccan proportion of peculiar species;
whereas since the publication of Webb’s ‘Phytographia’ many
peculiar species (especially of _Statice_ and _Crassulaceæ_) have
been discovered in the Canaries, and but few species common to other
countries; and these additions will go far to neutralise any error
introduced into the estimate, due to the great number of new species
founded on insufficient data which the ‘Phytographia’ includes.
Under this head also should be included the peculiar Canarian genera
that appear to be modifications of continental ones. They are
_Bencomia_, closely allied to _Poterium_, of which there are two
species, both confined to one Island (Teneriffe); one of these is
also a native of Madeira, where only two individual trees, a male and
a female, have ever been seen! _Gesnouinia_, allied to _Parietaria_;
and _Canarina_, a monotypic genus allied to _Campanula_, but having a
baccate fruit. _Bosea_, also a monotypic plant, is wholly unlike any
known genus, and is, in some respects, intermediate between the two
very distinct natural families—_Chenopodiaceæ_ and _Phytolacceæ_.
V. Many Canarian plants are representatives of Floras more distant
than those of Marocco or Western Europe, and are not found in those
countries. These form an exceedingly interesting group, and may be
classed according to countries thus:—
_a. Oriental._—These are chiefly Arabo-Egyptian, but some of them
extend even into Western India, and a few are representatives of
tropical India. Some will no doubt yet be discovered in Marocco,
especially south of the Atlas; and it is not unreasonable to suppose
that such have crossed Africa in a subtropical latitude, and thus
reached the Canaries under conditions now operating.
The most remarkable are the following. The genera in capitals have
not hitherto been found in Marocco:—
Polycarpon succulentum | CAMPYLANTHUS salsoloides
VISNEA Moccanera | TRAGANUM nudatum
GYMNOSPORIA cassinoides | APOLLONIAS barbusana
Trigonella hamosa | Euphorbia Forskählii
Senecio flavus | DRACÆNA Draco
CEROPEGIA dichotoma |
Of the above hardly any have been found west of the Levant, or
anywhere between Egypt and the Canaries, except, possibly, in
Southern Algeria. _Traganum_ must be reckoned as an African and
Oriental desert type, and will probably be found in South Marocco;
but _Ceropegia_ is mainly Indian, as is _Gymnosporia_ (_Catha
cassinoides_, Webb). _Campylanthus_ consists of the Canarian species,
of a variety or closely allied one in the Cape de Verde Islands,
and of a third which extends from Southern Arabia to Scinde. The
nearest ally of the _Apollonias_ (_Phœbe barbusana_, Webb) is a
Ceylon tree; and _Visnea_ is nearly allied to the Malayan genus
_Anneslea_. _Dracæna Draco_ is the most interesting of all in the
list; for, though the genus abounds in tropical Africa, the Canarian
form, which is also a native of the mountains of the Cape de Verde
Islands, has only one near ally, the _D. Ombet_, which is confined
to Abyssinia, Southern Arabia, and the intervening Island of Socotra.
_b._ The peculiar species representing American types inhabiting
the Canaries or Madeira, but not found in Marocco, are in some
respects even more remarkable than the Oriental.
They belong to the following genera:—
_Bowlesia_[9] (_Drusa oppositifolia_, DC.), _Clethra_, five
species of _Bystropogon_, and _Cedronella_. Of these _Bowlesia_
is otherwise confined to the tropical Andes of America, one species
only extending as far north as Mexico; the Canarian species, which
according to Webb is found on rocky shaded places in Teneriffe,
from the sea-level to the wooded region, is most closely allied
to a Peruvian one. _Clethra_ is a genus which extends from South
Brazil to the Northern United States, and is also found in Japan and
the Malayan Archipelago. The Macaronesian species most resembles a
North American; it is found also in Madeira. _Bystropogon_ is, like
_Bowlesia_, an Andean genus, extending from Peru to Columbia. All the
Canarian species belong to a different section from the Andean, and
there is one species of the same section in Madeira. _Cedronella_ is
a North American and Mexican genus, and the Canarian species differs
from all its congeners in its trisect leaves; it is also Madeiran.
Of the Canarian _Laurineæ_, _Persea indica_, also a native of
Madeira and the Azores, belongs to an American section of that
large genus.
_c._ Tropical and South African types in the Canaries. Of these the
most noticeable are two forest trees, belonging to the large tropical
genus _Myrsine_. One of these, _M. excelsa_ (_Heberdenia excelsa_,
Banks) is also found in Madeira; the other, _M. canariensis_,
is confined to the island whose name it bears. The tropical order
_Sapotaceæ_, to which _Argania_ belongs, has no representative in
the Canaries, but has one in the _Sideroxylon Mermulana_ of Madeira.
The only almost exclusively South African genus[10] in the Canaries
is a species of _Lyperia_, of which there are numerous Cape of Good
Hope species, and one doubtful one in the Somali country (North-East
Africa). The widely diffused Cape shrub, _Myrsine africana_, is
found in the Azores and in Abyssinia, but not in the Canaries, Cape
de Verdes, Madeira, or Marocco. The two singular shrubs _Phyllis_
and _Plocama_, consisting each of a single species, of which the
_Phyllis_ is found also in Madeira, are representatives of the
_Anthospermeæ_, a very large and conspicuously South African and
Australian tribe of _Rubiaceæ_, and of which the only Maroccan
representative is _Putoria_, a Mediterranean genus of a single
species, and which is not Canarian.
The _Oreodaphne fœtens_ of the Canaries and Maderia is now[11]
referred to the American, Madagascar, and South African genus
_Ocotea_, and is most nearly allied to a species found in the
latter country.
The Maroccan flowering plants are thus grouped by Ball in his
‘Spicilegium Maroccanum’[12]:—
Total number of Maroccan species 1,627
Species widely diffused, temperate or tropical 467
Of which there are common to Marocco and the Islands 300
Maroccan, but not Insular 167
Mediterranean species in Marocco 995
Of which there are widely spread species common to the 254
Islands and Marocco
Confined to Marocco and the Islands 15
Mediterranean species in Marocco, but not in the 726
Islands
Maroccan species exclusively 165
The proportion of _Monocotyledons_ to _Dicotyledons_ is in Marocco
1 to 4·6, in the Canaries 1 to 6—a very great difference.
The leading natural orders in Marocco and the Canaries respectively
are:—
Marocco Canaries
Species Species
Compositæ 208 143
Leguminosæ 189 104
Gramineæ 134 77
Umbelliferæ 86 27
Labiatæ 81 59
Cruciferæ 73 29
Caryophylleæ 69 38
In each country these seven natural orders include nearly half the
Dicotyledonous plants. But in the Canaries the _Crassulaceæ_ with
31 species should replace the _Cruciferæ_, and the _Umbelliferæ_
be excluded.
The natural orders which are indigenous to the three Archipelagos
of the Canaries, Madeira, and the Azores, but which are absent in
Marocco, and the reverse are:—
In the Archipelago, but not | In Marocco, but not in the
in Marocco. | Archipelago.
|
Simarubeæ (Cneorum) | Berberideæ
Pittosporeæ | Capparideæ
Ternstrœmiaceæ | Polygaleæ
Ilicineæ | Ampelideæ
Myrsineæ | Coriarieæ
Phytolacceæ (Bosea) | Saxifrageæ
Myriceæ | Apocyneæ
Commelyneæ (introduced?) | Lentibularieæ
| Nyctagineæ
| Ulmaceæ
| Cupuliferæ
| Ceratophylleæ
| Alismaceæ
| Juncagineæ
| Melanthaceæ
In the above lists the _Commelyneæ_ are most probably introduced
by man into the Canaries, and the absence of _Lentibularineæ_,
_Ceratophylleæ_, _Alismaceæ_, and _Juncagineæ_ in the Archipelago
may be due to the want of suitable localities. The total absence of
_Cupuliferæ_ in all the Macaronesian Archipelago is inexplicable;
and of _Quercus_ especially, a genus so prominently developed in
number of species and individuals on both continents, and which
further abounds in both the Pliocene and Miocene beds of Europe.
The apparently indigenous Macaronesian genera which are wanting in
Marocco are the following. Those in capitals are confined to the
Canaries, or to the Canaries and Madeira:—
Malvaceæ
Abutilon
Cruciferæ
PAROLINIA
Barbarea
Simarubeæ
Cneorum
Celastrineæ
Gymnosporia
Sapindaceæ
Melianthus?
Leguminosæ
Spartium
Ulex
Rosaceæ
BENCOMIA
Alchemilla
Fragaria
Aquifoliaceæ
Ilex
Pittosporeæ
Pittosporum
Ternstrœmiaceæ
VISNEA
Umbelliferæ
Todaroa
Rubiaceæ
PHYLLIS
PLOCAMA
Compositæ
Chrysocoma
Allagopappus
Vieræa
Doronicum
Serratula
Prenanthes
Campanulaceæ
MUSSCHIA
CANARINA
Wahlenbergia
Ericeæ
Clethra
Asclepiadeæ
Ceropegia
Convolvulaceæ
Cressa
Boragineæ
Tournefortia
Labiatæ
Bystropogon
Cedronella
Verbenaceæ
Lippia
Solaneæ
Nicandra
Scrophularineæ
Campylanthus
Lyperia
Acanthaceæ
Justicia
Oleineæ
Notelæa
Myrsineæ
Myrsine
Sapotaceæ
Sideroxylon
Primulaceæ
Pelletiera
Chenopodieæ
Traganum
Laurineæ
Persea
Apollonias
Ocotea
Phytolacceæ
BOSEA
Urticeæ
GESNOUINIA
Myriceæ
Myrica
Aroideæ
Dracunculus
Liliaceæ
Dracæna
Cyperaceæ
Fimbristylis
Cladium
Gramineæ
Chloris
Tricholæna
There are in Marocco, out of a total of 517 genera, 202, included
under 67 orders, that have no indigenous species in the Canaries
or Madeira. Many of these, about a quarter, being North Maroccan,
_i.e._ only found in parts of Marocco farthest from the Canaries,
would not be expected to occur in those islands, were it not that the
vegetation of islands near to large continents often most resembles
that of a higher latitude on the continent than that in which the
islands are situated.
The following is a list of the Maroccan genera which are absent
in Macaronesia;—those confined to North Marocco marked *; those
which have been found in Macaronesia, but certainly introduced,
marked ‖; those in italics have been discovered since our return
from Marocco.[13]
Clematis
Thalictrum
*Anemone
_Aconitum_
Berberis
Rœmeria
Corydalis
Cardamine
_Morettia_
_Anastatica_
Draba
*Erophila
Malcolmia
Diplotaxis
_Moricandia_
‖Lepidium
Thlaspi
Iberis
Hutchinsia
Isatis
Ceratocnemum
*Cakile
*Hemicrambe
_Cleome_
Capparis
_Caylusea_
Fumana
Polygala
Velezia
Dianthus
Holosteum
Buffonia
Lœfflingia
Montia
Althæa
Malope
*Radiola
Peganum
Celastrus
Zizyphus
Acer
*Coriaria
Lotononis
_Crotalaria_
Argyrolobium
*Calycotome
Anthyllis
*Securigera
Coronilla
Colutea
*Glycyrhiza
Hedysarum
Ornithopus
Ebenus
*Pisum
Ceratonia
‖Acacia
Saxifraga
_Parnassia_
Ribes
*Drosophyllum
*Peplis
*Ecbalium
*Hydrocotyle
Eryngium
Deverra
Hippomarathrum
Kundmannia
*Magydaris
Sclerosciadium
Meum
Heracleum
*Peucedanum
‖*Coriandrum?
Thapsia
Elæoselinum
_Gaillonia_
Putoria
Callipeltis
Asperula
Crucianella
*Valeriana
‖Centranthus
*Fedia
Nidorella
Nolletia
Micropus
Leysera
_Grantia_
_Anvillea_
*‖Xanthium
Achillea
Cladanthus
Echinops
Xeranthemum
Onopordon
Stæhelina
Crupina
*Leuzea
Carduncellus
Catananche
Hyoseris
Phœcasium
Hieracium
Scorzonera
Jasione
Trachelium
*Calluna
Armeria
Limoniastrum
Plumbago
Coris
Argania
Fraxinus
Phyllyrea
*Vinca
Nerium
_Dæmia_
_Glossonema_
Boucerosia
*Microcala
Cicendia
_Trichodesma_
Echinospermum
Rochelia
Nonnea
Cerinthe
Calystegia
*Mandragora
Anarrhinum
*Pinguicula
‖*Acanthus
Vitex
Lycopus
*Satureja
Hyssopus
Cleonia
Zizyphora
*Betonica
Ballota
Boerhavia
Corrigiola
Scleranthus
_Sclerocephalus_
Polycnemum
_Telephium_
*Obione
Salicornia
Caroxylon
Passerina
Osyris
Andrachne
*Ulmus?
Celtis
Quercus
Populus
Ceratophyllum
Callitris
Cedrus
Aceras
*Serapias
*Cephalanthera
*Crocus
Leucojum
*Lapiedra
*Tapeinanthus
*Corbularia
Narcissus
Aurelia
*Alisma
Damasonium
*Triglochin
Chamærops
Gagea
*Hyacinthus
Anthericum
*Simethis
*Aphyllanthes
Colchicum
Erythrostictus
*Convallaria
*Schœnus
*Leersia
Lygeum
*Crypsis
*Alopecurus
Macrochloa
*Sporobolus
Ammophila
‖Arundo
*Ampelodesmos
Phragmites
_Pappophorum_
Echinaria
*Spartina
*Airopsis
Gaudinia
Glyceria
Secale
Elymus
*Lepturus
Anthistiria
These 202 genera, which are absent in the Canaries, comprise upwards
of 300 Maroccan species, including _Eryngium_, with eleven species,
_Coronilla_ with eight, _Diplotaxis_ with seven, _Narcissus_,
_Anthyllis_, _Polygala_, _Passerina_, and _Quercus_ five each,
besides twenty other genera with three or four each. Not a few of
them contain very common and wide-spread species, as do all the
above-named, as well as _Clematis_, _Malcolmia_, _Cardamine_,
_Dianthus_, _Hedysarum_, _Heracleum_, _Asperula_, _Achillea_,
_Onopordon_, _Hyoseris_, _Scorzonera_, _Phyllyrea_, _Fraxinus_,
_Calystegia_, _Anarrhinum_, _Ballota_, _Populus_, _Chamærops_. That
no species of these or of many of the other genera should exist in
the Canaries is inexplicable, considering the position and extent
of the Archipelago, and the means of migration which must exist
between it and the mainland.
The species common to Macaronesia and Marocco exclusively, are in
so far as is at present known:—
Helianthemum canariense, _Jacq._
Polycarpia nivea, _Ait._ (also occurs in C. de Verde)
Zygophyllum Fontanesii, _Webb_
?Cytisus albidus, _DC._
Ononis angustissima, _Lam._ (?A form of _0. Natrix_)
Astragalus Solandri, _Lowe_ (Madeira only)
Astydamia canariensis, _DC._
Bowlesia oppositifolia
Odontospermum odorum, _Schousb._
Sonchus acidus, _Schousb._ (In Lancerotte, only a single plant,
possibly introduced)
Lithospermum microspermum, _Boiss._
Linaria sagittata, _Poir._
Chenolea canariensis, _Moq._
Salix canariensis, _Chr. Sm._ (rather uncertain)
Romulea grandiscapa, _Webb._ (Perhaps only a var., but Baker keeps
it)
Asparagus scoparius, _Lowe._ (Not quite certain)
Although it would be out of place here to discuss all the questions
raised by this slight sketch of the peculiarities of the Canarian
Flora, there are some of them which so intimately bear upon the
Maroccan as to awaken attention.
The wonderful development in the Canaries of endemic species
belonging for the most part to Mediterranean types, points to the
very early introduction of the parent forms of these, and the long
isolation both of the Archipelago and its separate islets. It is
in accordance with generally accepted views, to assume that the
endemic species of each genus have been derived from parent forms
originally introduced into one or more of the islets; and that as
the descendants of these species spread over the Archipelago they
were exposed to different conditions in each islet, resulting in
their varying, and in the segregation and conservation of different
local varieties each in its own insular birth-place; a supposition
which is in accordance with the fact that those endemic species
are really very local, many being confined to a single islet. In
Marocco the parent forms of its Flora would be exposed to no such
diverse conditions, and the areas in which varieties occurred,
not being isolated, would be exposed both to invasion on all sides
by other plants, and to destruction by agencies that affected the
whole surrounding country, as drought, floods, insects, and birds.
The tropical types in the Canaries, with the exception of the
Egypto-Arabian and the trees mentioned under V. _c._, are chiefly
weeds of wide distribution, which have not reached Marocco, because
of its want of ports and its limited commerce.
Finally the _Dracæna_, together with the tropical trees of
_Myrsineæ_, _Sapotaceæ_ (in Madeira), and _Laurineæ_, and the
Egypto-Arabian types, suggest the hypothesis that at a very remote
period these and many other plants of warmer and damper regions
flourished in the area included in North-West Africa and its adjacent
islands, and that they have been expelled from the continent by
altered conditions of climate, but have been preserved in the more
equable climate and more protected area of the Atlantic Islands.
Ball, who has given me valuable aid on many points discussed in this
article, directs my attention to the important differences that
exist between the vegetation of the eastern group of the Canary
Islands—Fuertaventura, Lanzarote, and the adjacent islets—the
‘Purpurariæ’ of authors, and the western group, including
Teneriffe, Grand Canary, &c.
In the first place, nearly all the characteristic Canarian types
are absent in the eastern group. Out of fifty-four genera above
enumerated as present in the Canaries but wanting in Marocco, two
are in the Canaries confined to the eastern islands: one of these,
_Traganum_, is an African desert type, probably to be found in
South Marocco; the other, _Melianthus_, a Southern African plant,
and scarcely indigenous. Of the remainder _Plocama_ alone is
certainly present, and three other generic types probably exist in
that group; while forty-eight genera, including eight out of nine
peculiar to the Canaries, are apparently absent. In the next place
several characteristic desert plants, such as _Oligomeris subulata_,
_Ononis vaginalis_, _Convolvulus Hystrix_, and _Traganum nudatum_,
are present in the ‘Purpurariæ,’ but absent from the western
islands.
Although the Flora of the Purpurariæ is incompletely known, and
our acquaintance with that of the neighbouring African coast between
the rivers Sous and Draha is extremely imperfect, these facts tend
to prove that there is a closer botanical relationship between the
eastern islands and the adjoining continent than there is between
them and the western portion of the Canarian Archipelago. Such
relationship might be brought about in three different ways.
1. The greater dryness and heat of the eastern islands may have
favoured the immigration of African forms, and at the same time
led to the destruction, or weeding out, of the characteristic
Canarian types. In this case the cause would be of a purely local
and climatic character.
2. We may believe in the trans-oceanic migration of some African
species to the nearer islands, along with the transport of some
Canarian species (those enumerated in p. 416, and others which may
be hereafter found) to the neighbouring continent.
3. An ancient extension of the continent to the Purpurariæ,
leaving the other islands separated by deep sea.
It is an objection to the latter hypothesis that a profoundly deep
ocean bed lies between the lines of 100 fathom soundings that girdle
the islands and the African coast respectively; and that while the
100 fathom line extends about thirty miles from the coast of the
continent, it is never more than five miles, rarely more than one
or two, from those of the islands.
In favour of the hypothesis of trans-oceanic transport it may
be remarked that the distance between the African coast and
Fuertaventura is not more than seventy miles, and that a moderate
change of level of about 600 feet would reduce that distance by
one-half, while it would but slightly affect the interval that
separates the Purpurariæ from the other islands.
Among the possible causes leading to an interchange of species
between the Purpurariæ and the African coast the agency of man
must not be omitted. The fishermen of those islands were formerly
in the habit of visiting some points on the opposite coast, although
intercourse of this kind has almost ceased in recent times.
It must be observed that our knowledge of the vegetation of the
Canary Islands is yet incomplete. Although several additions to the
Flora have been published by C. Bolle and others, no supplement to
Webb’s ‘Phytographia’ has been published. Several additional
species exist in herbaria, besides those that may be hereafter found.
So little is known of the geology of Marocco, that there are no
data for ascertaining whether during antecedent geological periods
it contained a more tropical Flora than now; but evidence in support
of such a hypothesis is forthcoming in Madeira, where fossiliferous
beds which have been referred to ‘some part of the Pliocene
period’[14] have been discovered, containing leaves referable
in part to existing species of Madeiran plants, and in part to
extinct ones of tropical aspect;[15] and it is well ascertained
that during preceding geological periods Western Europe was clothed
with a vegetation that suggests a very much warmer climate than
now prevails, and of which vegetation the _Laurus nobilis_ in the
south-west of the continent has been supposed to be a surviving
representative.
In Grand Canary, also, Upper Miocene beds exist, containing numerous
species of fossil shells, of which one is an Oregon species, and
another tropical African; and in more recent deposits of the same
Archipelago many shells have been found which no longer inhabit
the adjacent seas, including tropical West African, Mozambique,
and Mediterranean species.
We can form no conception of means of transport from the American
continent that would transfer the parent species of _Bowlesia_ and
of the _Bystropogons_ from the Andes to the Atlantic islands; and we
can but hazard the assumption that, at some very distant date, these
genera existed in more eastern parts of America, from whence seeds
were transported across the ocean. On the other hand, the transport
of parent forms or existing species from the continents of Europe
and Africa to the Atlantic islands may have been much facilitated by
greater extensions of land in bygone ages. Madeira, the Canaries,
and the Cape de Verde Islands, are all supposed to stand on a
submarine platform which skirts the coasts of Western Europe and
North-Western Africa, and whose submerged margin immediately to
the westward of the position of the islands descends rapidly to a
profound depth. The westward margin of this platform was possibly
the coast-line in Miocene times. An elevation of its surface of
a few hundred feet would approximate the islands to the mainland
very materially, and greatly facilitate transport. That they were,
however, ever united to the continent is opposed to the views of most
competent geologists. Lyell, speaking of this, says: ‘The general
abruptness of the cliffs of all the Atlantic islands, coupled with
the rapid deepening of the sea outside the 100 fathom line, are
characters which favour the opinion that each island was formed
separately by igneous eruptions, and in a sea of great depth.’
Moreover, the Azores, whose botany in so many respects resembles
that of the other Atlantic islands, as distinguished from that of
the continent, are enormously more distant from the mainland; and
these islands stand on a platform of their own, separated from the
continental one by an ocean of profound depth; so that any theory of
transport which applies to the Canarian and Madeiran Archipelagos,
should apply also to the Azorean.
It remains a point of some nicety to decide whether the Macaronesian
islands should be regarded as a Botanical province apart from the
Mediterranean, or a sub-division of the latter. The assemblage of
American and Oriental genera which their Flora contains, together
with the arboreous representatives of tropical _Laurineæ_, all so
entirely foreign to the European Flora, would give it a title to be
called a Botanical province; and to this as a further title is the
prevalence of a considerable proportion of North European plants,
in the Northern Archipelago especially. On the other hand, fully
two-thirds of the species are typical of the Mediterranean Flora, and
by far the majority of the remainder are derivative species of the
same origin; so that, on the whole, I am disposed to regard it as a
very distinct sub-division of the Mediterranean province, which owes
its peculiarities partly to the conservation of types once common
to West Europe and North Africa, but which have been eliminated in
those regions, and partly to the effect of isolation and climate
on the progeny of species still existing in those regions.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The Canary Islands are situated about 3° farther
south, and 280 miles distant from Mogador. They are thus opposite
a much more hot and arid part of the African coast than that north
of the Atlas. The large island of Fuertaventura is only about 70
miles from the continent south of Oued Noun.]
[Footnote 2: _Journ. Linn. Soc._ vol. xvi. p. 297.]
[Footnote 3: A term first applied by Webb to the Flora of the
Canarian Archipelago, but which should also include the Flora of
Madeira (as Ball makes it do in the above mention of it), the Azores,
and perhaps also of the Cape de Verde Islands, which together form
either a distinct botanical province, or a marked subdivision of
the Mediterranean province.]
[Footnote 4: No less than nine very distinct genera are confined
to the Canaries or Madeira or both:—_Parolinia_, _Bencomia_,
_Visnea_, _Phyllis_, _Plocama_, _Canarina_, _Musschia_, _Bosea_,
and _Gesnouinia_. The only endemic genera in Marocco are _Argania_,
_Hemicrambe_, _Ceratocnemum_, and _Sclerosciadium_.]
[Footnote 5: On the other hand, many peculiar species have been
added to the Canarian Flora since the date of the publication of
the _Phytographia_ (1836-50).]
[Footnote 6: The genera, which are unduly multiplied in the
_Phytographia_, are here reduced to the standard adopted in the
_Spicilegium_. The species are, unfortunately, also inordinately
multiplied in the former work, which seriously vitiates the table:
this, however, it is impossible to set right. On the other hand,
some of the Canarian genera have been largely added to by later
explorers.]
[Footnote 7: In this, the most curious case of all, the species
were elaborated by Bentham, and may, therefore, be depended upon. A
second Maroccan _Micromeria_, allied to a Canarian one, has been
found by M. Cosson’s collectors, as I am informed by Ball, whilst
this sheet was passing through the press.]
[Footnote 8: This estimate is subject to the same deductions as I
have referred to in note 2, p. 407. On the other hand, were the
many obviously introduced species to be struck out of Webb and
Berthelot’s enumeration, the proportion of peculiar species would
be considerably augmented.]
[Footnote 9: Whilst this sheet was passing through the press,
I am informed that M. Cosson’s collectors have found _Bowlesia_
in South Marocco. No doubt this is another case of that accidental
diffusion of Macaronesian species alluded to by Ball. (See p. 405.)]
[Footnote 10: The Cape of Good Hope mountain plant, _Melianthus
comosus_, found at the south end of Fuertaventura, must be assumed
to have been introduced by man into that island.]
[Footnote 11: In Bentham and Hook, f., _Gen. Plant._
(vol. iii. ined.), the _Laurineæ_ are described by Bentham, who
has determined, for the first time, the proper position of the
Canarian Laurels.]
[Footnote 12: _Journ. Linn. Soc. Bot._ vol. xvi.]
[Footnote 13: M. Cosson has published in the 22nd volume of the
‘Bulletin of the Botanical Society of France’ a list including
the plants received from his collectors in South Marocco up to the
year 1874.]
[Footnote 14: Lyell’s _Principles of Geology_, ed. 11,
vol. ii. p. 410.]
[Footnote 15: Lyell’s _Student’s Elements of Geology_, ed. 2,
pp. 538, 539.]
* * * * *
APPENDIX F.
_Comparison of the Maroccan Flora with that of the Mountains of
Tropical Africa._
By JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER.
As was to have been anticipated, the Maroccan Flora contains most of
the European species which have been collected on the mountains of
Abyssinia and of the Bight of Biafra, which alone of the tropical
African Alps have been botanically explored. Of these the former
have been visited by Schimper and various collectors; whilst the
mountains of the pestilential West African coast, of Fernando Po,
9,500 feet, and the Cameroons Mountains, upwards of 13,000 feet,
have been ascended for botanical purposes only by Gustav Mann,
when employed for the Royal Gardens of Kew.
The results of the latter were published by myself in the ‘Journal
of the Linnæan Society of London’ (vol. vii. p. 171), from whence
the following observations are for the most part extracted. They
included 26 European species, gathered at elevations between 5,000
and 10,000 feet. Most of them are also natives of the Abyssinian
Alps, and two-thirds of them are also Maroccan, whilst others will
probably yet be found in the latter country.
The following is a catalogue of all the European plants found in
the upper regions of the Cameroons Mountains and Fernando Po:—
+-----------------------+--------------+-----------------------+
| | Height | Where found |
| +--------------+-----------------------+
| | feet | |
|Cardamine hirsuta | 7,000-10,000 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Cerastium vulgatum | 8,000 | „ „ |
|(viscosum Fr.) | | |
| | | |
|Radiola Millegrana | 7,000 | Marocco |
| | | |
|Oxalis corniculata | 7,000-8,500 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Umbilicus pendulinus | 7,000-10,000 | „ „ |
| | | |
|Sanicula europæa | 4,000-7,500 | Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Galium rotundifolium | 7,000-12,000 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Galium Aparine | 7,000-10,000 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Scabiosa succisa | 10,500? | |
| | | |
|Myosotis stricta | 8,000-10,000 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Limosella aquatica | 9,000-10,000 | Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Sibthorpia europæa | 7,000-7,500 | „ |
| | | |
|Solanum nigrum | 7,000-11,000 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Rumex obtusifolius | 7,000 | Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Parietaria mauritanica | 7,000-8,000 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Trichonema Bulbocodium | 7,000-9,000 | „ „ |
| | | |
|Juncus capitatus | 7,000 | Marocco |
| | | |
|Luzula campestris | 8,000-10,000 | Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Deschampsia cæspitosa | 9,000-12,000 | „ |
| | | |
|Aira caryophyllea | 7,000-8,000 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Poa nemoralis | 7,000-10,000 | Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Kœleria cristata | 8,000-12,000 | „ |
| | | |
|Vulpia bromoides | 7,000-10,000 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Festuca gigantea | 8,500 | Marocco |
| | | |
|Brachypodium sylvaticum| 7,000 | Abyssinia |
| | | |
|Andropogon distachyus | 7,000 | Marocco and Abyssinia |
+-----------------------+--------------+-----------------------+
The most remarkable features of the Temperate vegetation of these
West African tropical mountains are:—
1. Its poverty.
2. The preponderance of Abyssinian genera and species.
3. The considerable proportion of European plants.
4. The paucity of South African genera and species.
5. The great rarity of new genera.
6. The absence of St. Helena and Canarian types.
Upon each of these propositions I have a few general remarks
to offer.
In the poverty of their Flora the Cameroons range and Peak of
Fernando Po seem to partake of the characteristics of the Abyssinian
Alps. We know far too little of the physical geography of either of
these districts to hazard many conjectures upon this point, which
must to a certain extent be dependent on the arid volcanic nature
of the soil and the limited area of the Temperate region. Mr. Mann
spent many weeks, and at various seasons, in his explorations, and
yet 237 flowering plants were all that rewarded his toil. Geological
causes have probably had, in the case of the Cameroons Mountains,
much to do with the dearth of species, some parts of the range even
now presenting evidence of subterranean heat.
The preponderance of Abyssinian forms is proved by almost all of
the genera and half the species being natives of Abyssinia, and
by many other species being very closely related to, or obvious
representatives of, plants of that country. There are, further,
several of the genera and many of the species peculiar to Abyssinia
and the peaks of Biafra.
The number of European genera amounts to 43, and species to 26,
the greater part of which are British. Very few of them extend
into South Africa. The greater part are Abyssinian; the remarkable
exceptions being _Radiola_, _Scabiosa succisa_, _Luzula campestris_,
and _Festuca gigantea_, all of which, however, may have been hitherto
overlooked in Abyssinia.
I find no other evidence of relationship between the Biafran mountain
Flora and that of Marocco than what is afforded by the European
species common to both. In most other respects the Floras differ
totally, the other mountain plants of Biafra being Abyssinian or
Cape types, or more nearly related to tropical African ones.
* * * * *
APPENDIX G
_On the Mountain Flora of Two Valleys in the Great Atlas of Marocco._
By JOHN BALL.
Although an attempt to discuss the character and relations of the
Flora of a region so wide and so little known as the mountain region
of the Great Atlas would as yet be quite premature, it appears that
the materials at our disposal suffice for an examination of the
vegetation of the valleys lying south and south-west of the city
of Marocco, which may be an acceptable contribution to botanical
geography. For this purpose it seems best to limit the discussion to
the two valleys where our collections were sufficiently extensive
to give a tolerably complete representation of the vegetation,
as far as this was developed at the season of our visit, and to
exclude altogether the plants found along the skirts of the great
range below the level of about 1,200 metres above the sea. The Flora
of the zone below that level is largely mixed up with extraneous
elements, represented by plants of the low country that reach the
base of the mountains, but do not penetrate the interior valleys,
and if these had been admitted the special features of the mountain
Flora would have become less apparent. The plants collected in the
course of a somewhat hurried excursion from Seksaoua, when we reached
a height of about 1,600 metres, have been designedly omitted. On
such occasions attention is to a great extent monopolised by the
new and rare species not hitherto seen in the same region, while
comparatively familiar forms are less carefully noted. Collections
made under such circumstances rarely give a moderately complete
report of the vegetable population.
In ascending to the higher region of mountains that approach to
the limit of vegetation the absolute number of species is so much
smaller that this source of error is far less apparent; and it is
not likely that in the two ascents which we made to the dividing
ridge of the Atlas many species that came within our range of vision
were overlooked. The following tabular arrangement shows that in
the Aït Mesan valley, where we spent the greater part of six days,
we collected 375 species of phænogamous plants, to which have been
added three subsequently found there by MM. Rein and Fritsch; while
in the Amsmiz valley only 223 species—or less than three-fifths of
the above number—were collected. Of these 146 species are common
to both valleys; so that our list does not in all exceed 455 species
of flowering plants, to which I have added 10 vascular cryptogams,
of which two only were found in the Amsmiz valley.
In the following list I distinguish a middle zone, extending from
1,200 to 2,000 metres above the sea, and a superior zone including
all above that limit; the latter corresponding pretty nearly with the
sub-alpine and alpine zones of the higher mountains of Europe. With
reference to their distribution I have divided the species into four
categories: 1, Mid-European, those extending to Central Europe,
of which more than three-fourths belong to the British Flora: 2,
wide-spread Mediterranean, extending beyond the bounds of the three
adjoining regions, Algeria, the Spanish peninsula, and the Canary
Islands: 3, confined to adjoining regions; that is, to one or more
of those just enumerated: 4, endemic, known only in the Great Atlas,
or the neighbouring provinces of Marocco.
_Tabular View of the Mountain Flora of the Great Atlas, showing the
distribution of the Species found in the Valleys of Aït Mesan and
Amsmiz. S indicates the superior zone from 2,000 m. to 3,500 m. above
the sea; M the middle (or mountain) zone, from 1,200 m. to 2,000 m._
[A: Aït Mesan
B: Amsmiz
C: Mid-European
D: Wide-spread Mediterranean
E: Confined to adjoining regions
F: Endemic]
+----------------------------------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+
| Name of Species | A | B | C | D | E | F |
+----------------------------------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+
|Ranunculus spicatus, L. var. | — | S | — | — | * | — |
| „ atlanticus, Ball | M | M | — | — | | * |
| „ bulbosus, L. var. | M | M | * | — | — | |
| „ arvensis, L. |M S| — | * | — | — | |
| „ muricatus, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ Reinii, nov. sp. | S | — | — | — | — | * |
|Aquilegia vulgaris, L. var. | — | M | * | — | — | — |
|Delphinium Balansæ, B. et R. var.? | S | S | — | — | * | — |
|Berberis cretica, L. var. | — | S | — | * | — | — |
|Papaver tenue, Ball |M S|M S| — | — | — | * |
| „ rupifragum, B. et R. var. | S | S | — | — | * | — |
|Rœmeria hybrida, D.C. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Hypecoum pendulum, L. | | M | — | * | | — |
|Corydalis heterocarpa (Dur.) | M | — | — | — | * | |
|Fumaria officinalis, L. | S | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ parviflora, Lam. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ media, Lois var. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ agraria, Lag. var. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ tenuisecta, Ball. | M | — | — | — | — | * |
|Nasturtium officinale, R. Br. | S | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ atlanticum, Ball | S | — | — | — | — | * |
|Arabis albida, Stev. | S | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ erubescens, Ball | S | | | — | — | * |
| „ auriculata, Lam. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
| „ decumbens, Ball | S | S | | — | — | * |
| „ conringioides, Ball | S | S | | | — | * |
|Cardamine hirsuta, L. var. | — | S | * | | — | — |
|Alyssum alpestre, L. vars. | M | M | * | | | — |
| „ montanum, L. var. | | S | * | — | | — |
| „ campestre, L. |M S| — | * | — | | |
| „ calycinum, L. |M S| — | * | — | — | |
| „ spinosum, L. | S | — | — | * | — | |
|Draba hispanica, Boiss. | — | S | — | — | * | |
|Sisymbrium Thalianum | | S | * | — | — | |
| „ runcinatum, Lag. var. | — | M | — | — | * | |
|Erysimum australe, Gay, var, |M S|M S| * | — | — | — |
|Brassica rerayensis, Ball | S | — | — | — | | * |
|Capsella bursa-pastoris, L. | S | — | * | — | — | — |
|Lepidium nebrodense, Raf. var. | S | | — | * | — | |
|Biscutella lyrata, L. var. | S | — | — | * | — | — |
|Thlaspi perfoliatum, L. et var. | S | S | * | | — | — |
|Hutchinsia petræa, R. Br. | S | S | * | | — | — |
|Isatis tinctoria, L. var. | M | M | * | — | | — |
|Crambe hispanica, L. | — | M | — | | * | — |
|Capparis spinosa, L. | M | — | — | * | | — |
|Reseda attenuata, Ball | S | — | — | | | * |
| „ phyteuma, L. | | M | * | — | | — |
| „ lanceolata, Lag. | M | — | — | | * | |
|Cistus polymorphus, Willd. | M | — | — | * | | |
|Helianthemum niloticum, L. var.? | S | — | — | * | — | |
| „ rubellum, Presl. | — | M | | * | — | |
| „ glaucum, Cav. | — | M | | * | — | |
| „ virgatum, Desf. et var. | M | M | — | — | * | |
|Fumana glutinosa, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ calycina, Claus. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Viola tezensis, Ball | — | S | — | — | — | * |
|Polygala rupestris, Pourr. | M | M | — | * | | — |
| „ Balansæ, Coss. | M | M | — | — | — | * |
|Dianthus attenuatus, Sm. |M S| | — | — | * | — |
| „ virgineus, L. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
|Tunica compressa, Desf. | — | M | — | — | * | — |
| „ prolifera, L. | M |M S| * | — | — | — |
|Silene inflata, Sm. var. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ nocturna, L. | M | — | | * | — | — |
| „ corrugata, Ball | M | | — | — | — | * |
| „ muscipula, L. | M | | | * | — | — |
| „ italica, L. | M | M | | * | — | — |
|Holosteum umbellatum, L. | S | S | * | | — | — |
|Cerastium glomeratum, Thuill. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
| „ brachypetalum, Desf. | S | S | * | — | | — |
| „ arvense, L. |M S|M S| * | — | — | |
|Stellaria media, L. | M | — | * | — | — | |
| „ uliginosa, Murr. | S | — | * | — | — | |
|Arenaria pungens, Clem. et var. | S | S | — | — | * | |
| „ serpyllifolia, L. | S | S | * | — | — | |
| „ procumbens, Vahl. | M | | — | * | — | |
| „ fasciculata, Gouan | S | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ setacea, Thuill. var. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
| „ verna, L. var. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
|Buffonia tenuifolia, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Sagina procumbens, L. var. | S | S | * | | — | — |
| „ Linnæi, Prese. | S | — | * | — | | — |
|Polycarpon tetraphyllum, L. | | M | * | — | — | |
| „ Bivouæ, J. Gay | S | S | | * | — | |
|Montia fontana, L. | S | | * | — | — | — |
|Hypericum perforatum, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ coadunatum, Chr. Sm. var. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Malva sylvestris, L. | M | — | * | | | — |
| „ rotundifolia, L. |M S| — | * | — | | — |
|Linum corymbiferum, Desf. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Fagonia cretica, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Geranium malvæflorum, B. et R. | S | S | — | — | * | — |
| „ pyrenaicum, L. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ molle, L. | S | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ rotundifolium, L. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ lucidum, L. | S |M S| * | — | — | — |
| „ robertianum, L. var. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Erodium Jacquinianum, F. et M. |M S| — | | * | — | — |
| „ malacoides, L. | M | — | — | * | | — |
| „ guttatum, W. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Oxalis corniculata, L. | M | — | * | — | | — |
|Ruta chalepensis, L. |M S| — | — | * | — | |
|Rhamnus Alaternus, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ lycioides, L. | — | M | — | — | * | |
|Acer monspessulanum, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Pistacia Lentiscus, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
|Lotononis maroccana, Ball | M | M | — | — | | * |
|Argyrolobium Linnæanum, Walp. var. |M S| — | — | * | — | |
| „ stipulaceum, Ball | — | M | — | — | — | * |
|Adenocarpus anagyrifolius, Coss. | M | M | — | — | — | * |
|Genista dasycarpa (Coss.) | M | — | — | — | — | * |
| „ myriantha, Ball | | M | — | — | — | * |
| „ florida, L. var. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Cytisus Balansæ, Boiss. var. | S | S | — | — | * | — |
| „ albidus, D.C. | — | M | — | — | — | * |
| „ Fontanesii, Spach | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Ononis atlantica, Ball | — | M | — | — | — | * |
| „ antiquorum, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Trigonella monspeliaca, L. | M | | — | * | — | — |
| „ polycerata, L. et var. | S | M | — | — | * | — |
|Medicago lupulina, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ suffruticosa, Ram. | S | S | — | — | * | — |
| „ turbinata, W. vars. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ denticulata, W. | — | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ minima, Lam. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Melilotus indica, All. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Trifolium atlanticum, Ball | S | | — | — | — | * |
| „ glomeratum, L. var. | S | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ repens, L. | M | — | * | | — | — |
| „ humile, Ball | S | | | | | * |
| „ tomentosum, L. | M | — | | * | | — |
|Anthyllis Vulneraria, L. et var. |M S| — | * | — | — | — |
| „ tetraphylla, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Lotus cytisoides, D. C. | M | — | — | * | — | |
|Coronilla pentaphylla, Desf. | M | — | — | — | * | |
| „ ramosissima, Ball | M | — | — | | — | * |
| „ minima, L. | M | — | * | | — | — |
| „ scorpioides, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Hippocrepis atlantica, Ball | S | — | — | | — | * |
| „ multisiliquosa, L. var. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Psoralea bituminosa, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Colutea arborescens, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Astragalus sesameus, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ Reinii, Ball | S | — | — | — | — | * |
| „ Glaux, L. var. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
| „ atlanticus, Ball | M | — | — | — | — | * |
| „ ochroleucus, Coss. | S | — | — | — | — | * |
| „ incurvus, Desf. | M | — | — | — | * | |
|Vicia onobrychoides, L. | S | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ glauca, Presl. var. | S | — | — | * | — | |
| „ sativa, L. vars. |M S| — | * | — | — | — |
|Lathyrus aphaca, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ sphæricus, Retz. | M | | — | * | — | |
|Ceratonia siliqua, L. | M | M | | * | — | — |
|Prunus prostrata (Labill.) | S | S | | * | — | — |
|Poterium sanguisorba, L. | M | | * | — | — | — |
| „ verrucosum, Ehrnb. var. | M | | — | * | — | — |
| „ anceps, Ball | S | S | — | — | — | * |
| „ ancistroides, Desf. | | M | — | — | * | |
|Rosa canina, L. var. | M | M | * | — | — | |
| „ Seraphini, Viv. | S | S | — | * | — | — |
|Saxifraga globulifera, Desf. |M S|M S| | — | * | — |
| „ tridactylites, L. | S | | * | — | — | — |
| „ granulata, L. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
|Ribes Grossularia, L. |M S| S | * | — | — | |
|Cotyledon umbilicus, L. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
|Sedum modestum, Ball | M | M | — | — | — | * |
| „ dasyphyllum, L. var. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ acre, L. |M S|M S| * | — | — | — |
|Sempervivum atlanticum, Ball | M | — | — | — | — | * |
|Monanthes atlantica, Ball | — | S | — | — | — | * |
|Bryonia dioïca, Jacq. | M | — | * | — | | — |
|Eryngium Bourgati, Gouan, var. | — | S | — | — | * | — |
| „ variifolium, Coss. | M | — | — | | — | * |
|Bupleurum spinosum, L. | S | S | — | * | | — |
| „ acutifolium, Coss. | M | M | — | — | * | — |
| „ oblongifolium, Ball | M | — | — | | — | * |
| „ lateriflorum, Coss. | M | — | — | | — | * |
|Deverra scoparia, Coss. et Dur. | — | M | — | — | * | — |
|Carum mauritanicum, B. et R. | M | M | — | — | * | — |
|Pimpinella Tragium, Vill. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Tinguarra sicula, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Scandix pecten Veneris, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Kundmannia sicula, L. | M | | — | * | — | — |
|Meum atlanticum, Coss. | | S | | — | — | * |
|Heracleum Sphondylium, L. | S | | * | | — | — |
|Bifora testiculata, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Caucalis latifolia, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ daucoides, L. | — | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ leptophylla, L. |M S| M | — | * | — | — |
| „ cœrulescens, Boiss. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Elæoselinum meoides, Desf. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Hedera Helix, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Sambucus nigra, L. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
|Viburnum Tinus, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Lonicera etrusca, Santi | M | | — | * | — | — |
|Putoria calabrica, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Callipeltis cucullaria, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Rubia tinctorum, L. | S | — | | * | | — |
| „ peregrina, L. et var. | M | — | * | — | | — |
|Galium Poiretianum, Ball | M | — | — | — | * | — |
| „ corrudæfolium, Vill. | — | S | — | * | — | — |
| „ sylvestre, Poll. var. | S | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ acuminatum, Ball |M S| | — | — | — | * |
| „ noli-tangere, Ball | — | M | — | — | — | * |
| „ tunetanum, Lam. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
| „ parisiense, L. var. |M S|M S| * | — | — | — |
| „ tricorne, With. | S | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ spurium, L. |M S| S | * | — | — | — |
| „ murale, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Asperula aristata, L. var. | | M | | * | — | — |
| „ hirsuta, Desf. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Crucianella angustifolia, L. | M | | | * | — | — |
|Sherardia arvensis, L. | M | — | * | | — | — |
|Centranthus angustifolius, D. C. |M S| — | | * | | — |
| „ calcitrapa, L. | S | S | — | * | | |
|Valerianella discoidea, W. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ auricula, D. C. |M S| M | * | — | — | |
| „ carinata, Loisel. | — | M | * | — | — | |
|Scabiosa stellata, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Pterocephalus depressus, Coss. |M S| M | — | — | — | * |
|Bellis annua, L. var. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ cœrulescens, Coss. |M S|M S| | — | — | * |
|Evax Heldreichii, Parl. | S | | | * | — | — |
|Micropus bombycinus, Lag. | M | M | — | * | | — |
|Filago germanica, L. var. | — | M | * | | — | |
| „ heterantha, Rafin. | S | S | — | * | — | — |
|Filago gallica, L. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
|Phagnalon saxatile, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ atlanticum, Ball | M | — | — | — | — | * |
|Gnaphalium luteo-album, L. | M | M | * | | — | — |
| „ helichrysoides, Ball | S | | — | — | — | * |
|Inula montana, L. | M | | — | * | | |
|Pulicaria mauritanica, Coss. | M | — | — | — | | * |
|Odontospermum aquaticum, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Anacyclus depressus, Ball | S | — | | — | — | * |
| „ valentinus, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Achillea ligustica, All. et var. | M | M | — | * | — | |
|Anthemis tuberculata, Boiss. | — | S | — | | * | |
| „ heterophylla (Coss.). | M | M | — | | — | * |
|Chrysanthemum Gayanum (Coss.) et var. |M S|M S| — | — | * | — |
| „ atlanticum, Ball | S | S | — | — | — | * |
| „ Catananche, Ball | S | S | — | — | — | * |
|Senecio lividus, L. var. | S | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ giganteus, Desf. | M | M | — | — | * | — |
|Calendula maroccana, Ball | M | M | — | — | — | * |
|Echinops spinosus, L. | M | — | — | * | — | |
|Xeranthemum modestum, Ball | M | M | — | — | — | * |
|Atractylis cancellata, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ macrophylla, Desf. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Carduus macrocephalus, Desf. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ Ballii, H. fil. |M S| M | — | — | — | * |
|Cnicus echinatus Desf. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ ornatus, Ball | — | M | — | — | — | * |
| „ chrysacanthus, Ball | M | — | | | — | * |
| „ Casabonæ, L. | S | — | — | * | — | — |
|Stæhelina dubia, L. var. | — | M | | * | — | — |
|Centaurea incana, Desf. var. | M | — | | * | — | — |
| „ Salmantica, L. var. | M | M | | * | — | — |
|Carthamus cœruleus, L. var. |M S| — | — | * | — | — |
|Carduncellus lucens, Ball |M S| — | — | — | — | * |
|Catananche cærulea, L. et var. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ cæspitosa, Desf. | — | S | — | | * | — |
|Tolpis umbellata, Bert. | M | — | — | * | — | |
|Rhagadiolus stellatus, L. | M | M | — | * | | |
|Crepis taraxacifolia, Thuil. var. | M | | * | — | | |
| „ Hookeriana, Ball | — | S | — | — | — | * |
|Phæcasium pulchrum, L. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
|Hieracium Pilosella, L. | S | S | * | | — | |
|Hypochæris glabra, L. var. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ leontodontoides, Ball | S | | — | — | — | * |
|Leontodon autumnalis, L. var. | S | — | * | — | | — |
| „ Rothii, Ball | M | M | | * | | — |
| „ helminthioides, Coss. | — | M | | — | — | * |
|Taraxacum officinale, Wigg. var. | S | S | — | * | — | — |
|Lactuca viminea, L. | M | — | — | — | * | |
| „ tenerrima, Pourr. | M | M | * | — | | |
| „ saligna, L. | M | — | * | — | | |
|Sonchus oleraceus, L. | — | M | — | * | | — |
| „ asper, Vill. | M | — | * | | | — |
|Microrhynchus nudicaulis, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ spinosus (Forsk.) | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Scorzonera undulata, Vahl. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ pygmæa, S. et S. | S | — | — | * | | — |
|Jasione atlantica, Ball | S | — | — | — | * | — |
|Campanula maroccana, Ball | M | — | — | * | — | |
| „ rapunculus, L. | M | — | — | — | — | * |
| „ Lœfflingii, Brot. | M | — | — | — | | * |
|Specularia falcata (Ten.) | — | M | * | — | | — |
|Trachelium angustifolium, Schousb. | M | — | — | | * | — |
|Arbutus Unedo, L. | M | | | * | | — |
|Armeria plantaginea (All.)? | | S | — | — | — | * |
|Asterolinum linum-stellatum, L. | — | M | * | — | — | — |
|Anagallis linifolia, L. et var. |M S| — | * | — | — | — |
|Jasminium fruticans, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Fraxinus oxyphylla, M. B. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ dimorpha, Coss. et Dur. | M | — | — | * | | — |
|Phillyrea media, L. | M | M | — | * | | — |
|Olea europæa, L. | M | M | — | | * | — |
|Nerium Oleander, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
|Convolvulus Cantabrica, L. | M | M | | * | — | — |
| „ undulatus, Cav. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ sabatius, Viv. var. |M S| — | — | * | — | — |
| „ siculus, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ althæoides, L. | M | — | | * | — | — |
|Hyoscyamus albus, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Anchusa atlantica, Ball | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Lithospermum arvense, L. | S | — | | * | — | — |
| „ incrassatum, Guss. var. | S |M S| | — | — | * |
| „ apulum, Vahl. | M | | * | | — | — |
|Myosotis sylvatica, Hoffm. var. | S | S | — | * | — | — |
| „ hispida, Schlecht. var. | S | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ stricta, Link | S | S | * | — | — | — |
|Cynoglossum Dioscoridis, Vill. et var. |M S| — | * | — | — | — |
|Rochelia stellulata | M | M | * | — | — | — |
|Verbascum calycinum, Ball | M | — | | * | — | — |
|Celsia maroccana, Ball | M | | — | — | — | * |
|Linaria ventricosa, Coss. | M | M | | — | — | * |
|Linaria heterophylla, Desf. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ galioides, Ball et var. | S | — | — | — | — | * |
| „ arvensis, L. var. | S |M S| — | * | — | — |
| „ marginata, Desf. | S | — | — | — | * | — |
| „ lurida, Ball | S | | — | — | | * |
| „ Munbyana, Boiss. et Reut. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
| „ Tournefortii (Poir.) | S | S | — | — | * | — |
| „ rubrifolia, Rob. et Cast. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Anarrhinum pedatum, Desf. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
| „ fruticosum, Desf. | — | M | | * | — | — |
|Scrophularia canina, L. var.? | — | M | * | — | — | — |
|Digitalis lutea, L. var. | M | — | * | — | — | |
|Veronica Beccabunga, L. | S | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ cuneifolia, Don. var. | S | S | — | * | — | — |
| „ arvensis L. et var. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
| „ triphyllos, L. | — | M | * | | — | — |
| „ agrestis, L. | S | — | * | — | — | |
| „ hederifolia, L. et var. |M S|M S| * | — | — | |
|Phelipæa cærulea, Vill. | M | | * | — | — | — |
|Orobanche Hookeriana, Ball | M | — | — | — | — | * |
| „ barbata, Poir. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
|Lavandula dentata, L. et var. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ tenuisecta, Coss. |M S|M S| — | — | — | * |
|Mentha rotundifolia, L. | S | — | * | — | — | — |
|Thymus saturejoides, Coss. et var. | M | M | — | — | — | * |
|Thymus Serpyllum, L. var. | S | — | * | — | | — |
| „ lanceolatus, Desf. var. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ maroccanus, Ball | M | — | — | — | — | * |
|Micromeria microphylla, Benth | M | — | — | * | — | |
|Calamintha graveolens, M. B. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ alpina, L. var. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
| „ atlantica, Ball |M S|M S| — | | * | — |
|Hyssopus officinalis, L. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
|Salvia Maurorum, Ball | — | M | — | — | — | * |
| „ clandestina, L. var. |M S| — | * | — | — | |
|Nepeta multibracteata, Desf. | M | — | | — | * | — |
| „ atlantica, Ball | — | M | — | | — | * |
|Sideritis villosa, Coss. |M S|M S| — | — | | * |
| „ scordioides, L. var. | | S | * | — | — | — |
|Lamium amplexicaule, L. |M S|M S| * | — | — | — |
| „ album, L. var. | M | — | * | | — | — |
|Teucrium granatense, B. et R. var. | — | M | — | — | * | — |
| „ polium, L. vars. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
|Ajuga Iva, L. |M S|M S| — | * | — | |
|Globularia Alypum, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Plantago albicans, L. var. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Plantago coronopus, L. var. |M S| M | * | — | — | — |
| „ mauritanica, B. et R. | — | M | — | — | * | |
|Paronychia argentea, Lam. |M S|M S| — | * | — | — |
| „ capitata, Lam. var. |M S| | * | | | — |
| „ macrosepala, Boiss. et var. | M | | — | * | — | — |
|Scleranthus annuus, L. var. | | S | * | | | — |
|Polycnemum Fontanesii, Dur. et Moq. | M | — | — | — | * | |
|Rumex scutatus, L. var. |M S| — | * | — | — | |
| „ Papilio, Coss. | M | — | — | — | — | * |
|Polygonum aviculare, L. | | | * | — | — | — |
|Daphne Gnidium, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ Laureola, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Thymelæa virgata, Endl. var. | M | M | — | — | * | — |
|Osyris alba, L. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Aristolochia Pistolochia, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Euphorbia rimarum, Coss. | M | M | — | — | — | * |
|Quercus Ilex, L. et var. | M |M S| — | * | — | — |
|Salix purpurea, L. var. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Populus alba, L. var. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ nigra, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Ephedra altissima, Desf. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ procera, F. et M. | M | | — | * | — | — |
|Pinus halepensis, Mill. | — | M | — | * | — | — |
|Callitris quadrivalvis, Vent. | M | M | — | — | * | — |
|Juniperus oxycedrus, L. | M | M | | * | | — |
| „ phœnicea, L. et var. | M | | | * | — | — |
| „ thurifera, L. | S | | | | * | — |
|Orchis pyramidalis, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ latifolia, L. | S | — | * | — | — | — |
|Ophrys apifera, Huds. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Iris germanica, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Chamærops humilis, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
|Gagea foliosa, Schult. | — | S | — | * | — | — |
|Muscari comosum, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
|Scilla hispanica, Mill. | | S | — | — | * | — |
|Ornithogalum comosum, L. | S | | * | — | — | — |
| „ tenuifolium Guss. | | S | | * | — | — |
| „ orthophyllum, Ten. | | M | | * | — | — |
| „ pyrenaicum, L. var. | — | M | * | — | — | — |
|Allium paniculatum, L. var. | — | M | | * | — | — |
|Asphodelus microcarpus, Viv. | M | | — | * | — | — |
|Anthericum Liliago, L. var. | M | | * | — | — | |
|Colchicum Civonæ, Guss. | — | S | — | * | — | |
| „ arenarium W. K. var. ? | S | | — |*? | — | — |
|Smilax mauritanica, Desf. | M | — | — | * | | — |
|Asparagus acutifolius, L. | M | — | — | * | — | |
| „ scoparius, Lowe? | M | — | | — | — | * |
|Juncus bufonius, L. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
|Scirpus Savii, S. et M. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Carex Halleriana, Asso. | — | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ ambigua, Link. | M | — | — | — | * | — |
| „ fissirostris, Ball | S |M S| — | — | — | * |
|Phalaris nodosa, L. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Piptatherum cœrulescens, Desf. |M S| M | — | * | — | — |
|Stipa parviflora, Desf. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
| „ gigantea, Lag.? | M | — | — | * | — | |
| „ nitens, Ball | S | — | — | — | — | * |
|Agrostis verticillata, Vill. | M | — | — | * | — | |
|Phragmites communis, Trin. | M | — | * | — | — | |
|Echinaria capitata, Desf. |M S|M S| | * | | — |
|Aira caryophyllea, L. | |M S| * | — | — | — |
|Trisetum flavescens, L. | M | | * | — | — | — |
|Avena bromoides, Gouan. var. | M | | — | * | — | — |
|Arrhenatherum elatius. L. | — | M | * | — | — | — |
|Poa annua, L. |M S| M | * | — | — | — |
| „ bulbosa, L. |M S|M S| * | — | — | — |
| „ pratensis, L. |M S|M S| * | | — | — |
| „ trivialis, L. |M S| — | * | — | — | — |
|Melica ciliata, L. var. | M | — | * | — | | — |
| „ Cupani, Guss. var. |M S| M | — | * | — | — |
|Dactylis glomerata, L. vars. |M S|M S| * | — | — | — |
|Cynosurus elegans, Desf. | |M S| — | * | — | |
|Festuca rigida, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ unilateralis, Schrad. var. | M | — | — | * | — | |
| „ geniculata, L., et var. | M | M | — | * | — | |
| „ duriuscula, var. | S | S | * | — | — | — |
| „ arundinacea, Schreb. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
|Brachypodium pinnatum, L. var. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
| „ distachyum, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
|Bromus tectorum, L. |M S| — | * | — | — | — |
| „ madritensis, L. | M | M | * | — | — | — |
| „ mollis, L. vars. |M S| M | * | | — | — |
| „ macrostachys, Desf. var. | M | — | — | * | | — |
|Lolium perenne, L. | M | — | * | — | — | — |
|Triticum hordeaceum, Coss. et Dur. | M | | — | — | * | — |
|Secale montanum, Guss. | M | | — | * | — | |
|Elymus Caput-medusæ, L. var. | M | — | | * | — | |
|Hordeum murinum, L. | M | M | * | — | — | |
|Ægilops ovata, L. | M | M | — | * | — | — |
| „ ventricosa, Tausch. | M | — | — | * | — | — |
|Andropogon hirtus, L. var. | M | — | — | * | | — |
|Cistopteris fragilis, Bernh. | S | S | * | | | — |
|Cheilanthes fragrans, L. | M | — | — | * | | |
|Pteris aquilina, L. | S | | * | | | — |
|Asplenium trichomanes, L. |M S| — | * | | | — |
| „ viride, L. | S | | * | | | |
| „ Adiantum-nigrum, L. | S | | * | | | |
|Notochlæna vellea, Desv. | M | — | — | * | | |
|Ceterach officinarum, Willd. |M S|M S| * | — | | |
|Equisetum ramosissimum, Desf. | M | — | * | — | — | |
|Selaginella, rupestris, (Spreng.) | M | — | — | * | — | |
+----------------------------------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+
|Total number of species 465 |388|225|161|168| 61| 75|
+----------------------------------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+
Before discussing the inferences to be derived from this list, it may
be well to notice some sources of error that, to a slight extent,
affect the results. Although the season of our visit—the second
half of May—was probably the best as regards the middle zone, it
was too early to find the vegetation fully developed in the superior
zone, especially on the highest ridges. It is probable that on this
account the proportion of _Umbelliferæ_ and _Gramineæ_ found in
the higher region is smaller than it would have been at a later
season. At first sight it would appear that the shorter time that
we were able to devote to an examination of the upper region, and
the snow-storm which we encountered in the ascent to the Tagherot
Pass, make the proportion of species found there, as shown by our
lists, unduly small. There can be no doubt that we must have lost
several species owing to these causes, but not enough to vitiate
the results to a serious extent. In confirmation of this opinion it
may be mentioned that although a native employed by M. Cosson has
since made a large collection in the same part of the Great Atlas,
and two German naturalists—MM. Rein and Fritsch—have visited
the head of the Aït Mesan valley, very few species have been added
to the Flora of the higher mountain region.
The first conclusion that strikes a botanist on examining the
foregoing list is that the general type of the vegetation clearly
marks this as belonging to the great Mediterranean Flora, which
extends, with local peculiarities, from Persia and Belutschistan to
the Atlantic Islands. Out of 248 genera represented in the Flora of
these valleys there is not one which is not common to other portions
of the Mediterranean region, and one only (_Monanthes_) is confined
to the Great Atlas and the Canary and Cape de Verde Islands, all the
others being types more or less widely spread. Further than this,
the proportion borne by each of the prevailing natural orders to
the whole vegetable population is pretty nearly the same that we
are accustomed to find in the mountain regions of the Mediterranean
region.
The materials for a comparison are unfortunately yet incomplete
as regards many of the mountain districts which are best fitted
for the purpose. The Flora of the Lesser Atlas of Algeria, as well
as that of the rest of the French possessions in Africa, will be
fully known only on the appearance of the important work promised
by M. Cosson. The Flora of Spain by MM. Willkomm and Lange is yet
unfinished, and there is the further difficulty that those authors
have admitted a large number of plants to the rank of species
which many botanists reckon only as varieties. M. Boissier’s
great work, the ‘Flora Orientalis,’ is also unfinished, and no
adequate materials exist for compiling lists of the plants of the
Greek mountains, of those of Asia Minor, or of the Lebanon chain,
all of which would afford interesting materials for comparison. In
the following table I have taken for comparison the Flora of
the Sierra Nevada, with the neighbouring mountains of the ancient
kingdom of Granada above the level of about 800 metres, compiled from
Boissier’s ‘Voyage botanique dans le Midi de l’Espagne;’ that
of the Bulgardagh (the principal group of the Cilician Taurus), from
a list published by M. Pierre de Tchihatcheff in the ‘Bulletin of
the French Botanical Society;’ that of Dalmatia, from Visiani’s
excellent ‘Flora Dalmatica;’ and that of the southern slopes
of the chain of the Alps from Nice to the Karst, formed by myself
from all available sources.
In the same table I have introduced, for the purpose of further
comparison, separate columns for the middle and superior regions
of the Great Atlas valleys, and in connection with the last I have
added in a separate column the results for the higher zone of the
Sierra Nevada. Under each heading I have stated
TABLE. I—_Showing the number of species of each of the principal
groups and natural orders of plants in two valleys of the Great Atlas
compared with other mountain districts in the Mediterranean region._
+---------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| | | Middle | Superior | Sierra |
| | Gt. Atlas | Zone, Gt. | Zone, Gt. | Nevada, |
| | valleys. | Atlas. |Atlas. 176 |&c., above |
| | 455 sp. | 341 sp. | 176 sp. | 800 m. |
| | | | | 890 sp. |
+---------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
|Dicotyledones | 391 86·0| 286 83·9| 154 87·5| 762 85·6|
| | | | | |
|Monocotyledones| 64 14·0| 55 16·1| 22 12·5| 128 14·4|
| | | | | |
|Compositæ | 63 13·8| 46 13·5| 22 12·5| 119 13·4|
| | | | | |
|Leguminosæ | 48 10·5| 38 11·1| 14 8·0| 67 7·5|
| | | | | |
|Gramineæ | 39 8·6| 37 10·8| 14 8·0| 59 6·6|
| | | | | |
|Caryophylleæ | 26 5·7| 14 4·1| 15 8·5| 40 4·5|
| | | | | |
|Cruciferæ | 25 5·5| 7 2·1| 21 11·9| 49 5·5|
| | | | | |
|Labiatæ | 23 5·0| 18 5·3| 11 6·3| 54 6·1|
| | | | | |
|Scrophularineæ | 21 4·6| 13 3·8| 10 5·7| 37 4·2|
| | | | | |
|Umbelliferæ | 20 4·4| 16 4·7| 5 2·8| 50 5·6|
| | | | | |
|Rubiaceaæ | 18 4·0| 15 4·4| 7 4·0| 20 2·2|
| | | | | |
|Papaveraceæ | 10 2·2| 8 2·3| 3 1·7| 10 1·1|
| | | | | |
|Geraniaceaæ | 10 2·2| 8 2·3| 4 2·3| 10 1·1|
| | | | | |
|Liliaceæ | 10 2·2| 6 1·8| 4 2·3| 15 1·7|
| | | | | |
|Boragineæ | 9 2·0| 5 1·5| 6 3·4| 18 2·0|
| | | | | |
|Ranunculaceæ | 8 1·8| 5 1·5| 4 2·3| 28 3·1|
| | | | | |
|Cistineæ | 7 1·5| 6 1·8| 1 0·6| 23 2·6|
| | | | | |
|Rosaceæ | 7 1·5| 4 1·2| 3 1·7| 26 2·6|
| | | | | |
|Campanulaceæ | 6 1·3| 5 1·5| 1 0·6| 9 1·0|
| | | | | |
|Convolvulaceæ | 5 1·1| 5 1·5| 1 0·6| 3 0·3|
| | | | | |
|Coniferæ | 5 1·1| 4 1·2| 1 0·6| 10 1·1|
| | | | | |
|Saxifrageæ | 4 0·9| 4 1·2| 4 2·3| 12 1·3|
|(inclusive of | | | | |
|Grossulariæ) | | | | |
| | | | | |
|Cyperaceæ | 4 0·9| 4 1·2| 1 0·6| 17 1·9|
| | | | | |
|Gentianeæ | | | | 7 0·8|
| | | | | |
|Primulaceæ | 2 0·4| 2 0·6| 1 0·6| 7 0·8|
| | | | | |
|Junceæ | 1 0·2| 1 0·3| | 11 1·2|
+---------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
[**Continued]
+---------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| |Superior[1]| | | Southern |
| | Zone, |Bulgardagh.| Dalmatia. | side of |
| | Sierra | 882 sp. | 2,002 sp. | the Alps. |
| | Nevada. | | | 2,545 sp. |
| | 486 sp. | | | |
+---------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
|Dicotyledones | 419 86·2| 808 91·6| 1594 79·6| 2035 80·0|
| | | | | |
|Monocotyledones| 67 13·8| 74 8·4| 408 20·4| 510 20·0|
| | | | | |
|Compositæ | 63 13·0| 97 11·0| 235 11·7| 343 13·5|
| | | | | |
|Leguminosæ | 32 6·6| 93 10·5| 222 11·1| 172 6·8|
| | | | | |
|Gramineæ | 37 7·6| 38 4·3| 173 8·6| 176 6·9|
| | | | | |
|Caryophylleæ | 29 6·0| 81 9·2| 74 3·7| 121 4·8|
| | | | | |
|Cruciferæ | 37 7·6| 84 9·5| 98 4·9| 139 5·5|
| | | | | |
|Labiatæ | 28 5·8| 67 7·0| 100 5·0| 89 3·5|
| | | | | |
|Scrophularineæ | 28 5·8| 39 4·4| 66 3·3| 109 4·3|
| | | | | |
|Umbelliferæ | 23 4·7| 33 3·7| 113 5·6| 113 4·4|
| | | | | |
|Rubiaceaæ | 12 2·5| 19 2·2| 26 1·3| 34 1·3|
| | | | | |
|Papaveraceæ | 6 1·2| 12 1·4| 14 0·7| 14 0·6|
| | | | | |
|Geraniaceaæ | 6 1·2| 6 0·7| 17 0·8| 23 0·9|
| | | | | |
|Liliaceæ | 9 1·9| 23 2·6| 61 3·0| 52 2·0|
| | | | | |
|Boragineæ | 11 2·3| 23 2·6| 40 2·0| 39 1·5|
| | | | | |
|Ranunculaceæ | 15 3·1| 11 1·2| 53 2·6| 87 3·4|
| | | | | |
|Cistineæ | 10 2·1| 1 0·1| 11 0·5| 10 0·4|
| | | | | |
|Rosaceæ | 20 4·1| 21 2·4| 57 2·8| 93 3·7|
| | | | | |
|Campanulaceæ | 6 1·2| 21 2·4| 26 1·3| 46 1·8|
| | | | | |
|Convolvulaceæ | 2 0·1| 4 0·5| 10 0·5| 9 0·4|
| | | | | |
|Coniferæ | 8 1·6| 15 1·7| 15 0·7| 11 0·4|
| | | | | |
|Saxifrageæ | 9 1·9| 2 0·2| 9 0·4| 52 2·0|
|(inclusive of | | | | |
|Grossulariæ) | | | | |
| | | | | |
|Cyperaceæ | 12 2·5| 7 0·8| 43 2·2| 119 4·7|
| | | | | |
|Gentianeæ | 5 1·0| 4 0·5| 14 0·07| 31 1·2|
| | | | | |
|Primulaceæ | 6 1·2| 8 0·9| 12 0·6| 60 2·4|
| | | | | |
|Junceæ | 9 1·9| | 8 0·4| 31 1·2|
+---------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
the whole number of phanerogamous species included in the Flora
of the region, and opposite the name of each natural order I
have entered the number of species found in each region, and
the percentage proportion which this number bears to the entire
flora. Besides the orders which bear the largest proportion in the
Great Atlas Flora I have enumerated those that usually characterise
the vegetation of high mountains in this part of the world, though
several of these are little, or not at all, represented in the
Flora of the Great Atlas.
Confining the comparison in the first instance to the figures given
for the Atlas Flora as a whole in the first column, and those given
in the fourth, sixth, seventh, and eighth columns respectively,
for the Sierra Nevada, the Bulgardagh, Dalmatia, and the southern
side of the Alps, we remark in the first place that _Monocotyledons_
bear about the same proportion to _Dicotyledons_ in the Great Atlas
that they do in the Sierra Nevada, the percentage here being much
larger than it is in the Bulgardagh, and considerably less than
in Dalmatia or the Southern Alps. In this part of the world this
percentage in the Flora of a given region mainly depends upon the
number of _Gramineæ_ and _Cyperaceæ_. The abundance of the latter
group in the Alps doubtless arises from the fact that at a former
period physical conditions favoured the migration of a large number
of northern species that have been unable to extend to the more
southern mountain regions of the Mediterranean area.
In all the regions under consideration we find, with a single
exception, that the same eight natural orders take precedence of
all others as regards the number of species that they exhibit, the
aggregate in every case exceeding one-half of the whole phanerogamous
Flora. These natural orders are _Compositæ_, _Leguminosæ_,
_Gramineæ_, _Caryophylleæ_, _Cruciferæ_, _Labiatæ_,
_Scrophularineæ_, and _Umbelliferæ_. The exception arises from
the prevalence, already noticed, of _Cyperaceceæ_ in the Flora
of the Southern Alps. In comparing the figures in the Great Atlas
column with those for the other areas above enumerated, it is well
to recollect that our materials are taken from a district much more
limited in extent than the others, and are necessarily imperfect,
because obtained from a single short visit to each valley at a season
when many species are yet undeveloped. It is probable, for instance,
that the proportion of _Umbelliferæ_ would be increased if the
whole Flora were better known. Subject to this remark, it will
be seen, as might be expected, that the constituents of the Great
Atlas Flora show more analogy with those of the Sierra Nevada and
Bulgardagh Floras than with those of Dalmatia and the Southern Alps;
but the proportion of _Compositæ_ is larger than in any of them
(nearly 14 per cent). In comparing the vegetation of a small district
with that of a large one it must be recollected that a small natural
group containing a few widely spread species, such as _Geraniaceæ_,
is likely to show a larger percentage proportion to the whole Flora
in the small district than in the larger one. It may happen that
the same species are spread through both regions; but in one case
the number is to be compared with a small total, in the other with a
much larger one. This remark has a bearing on the fact that in the
Great Atlas Flora the natural orders that bear an unusually large
proportion to the total number of the Flora are _Leguminosæ_,
_Caryophylleæ_, _Rubiaceceæ_, _Papaveraceæ_, _Geraniaceæ_,
and _Convolvulaceæ_. On the other hand, there is a remarkable
deficiency in the natural orders that especially characterise
the Flora of the Alps, and in a less degree, the high mountains
of Southern Europe. These are _Ranunculaceceæ_, _Rosaceæ_,
_Saxifrageæ_, _Primulaceæ_, _Junceæ_, and _Cyperaceæ_; not to
speak of _Gentianeæ_, which are here altogether absent.
If, instead of regarding the Atlas Flora as a whole, we examine
separately the figures given in the several columns for the
middle and superior zones respectively, we find very different
proportions for the chief natural orders, except for _Compositæ_
and _Leguminosæ_ which are in both very numerous. In the middle
region of the Atlas these two orders represent very nearly
one-fourth of the phænogamous Flora. After these _Gramineæ_,
_Rubiaceæ_, _Papaveraceæ_, _Geraniaceæ_, _Cistineæ_, and
_Convolvulaceæ_ are, in the middle region, unusually frequent,
while _Cruciferæ_, _Rosaceæ_, _Boragineæ_, and _Liliaceæ_
are remarkably deficient. In the superior zone, on the other hand,
the proportion of _Compositæ_ and _Leguminosæ_ is less excessive,
making jointly a little over one-fifth of the whole Flora of the
upper region. The most marked characteristic here is the very
large proportion of _Cruciferæ_, being less by one species only
than the number of _Compositæ_. Taking into account the number of
individuals as well as that of species, this must be regarded as
the dominant element in the Flora of the higher region of the Great
Atlas, affording as it does 12 per cent of the whole Flora. The only
region in which this characteristic is approached is the Bulgardagh
in Cilicia, where _Cruciferæ_ supply near one-tenth of the whole
list. _Caryophylleæ_ also form an unusually large element in the
Flora of the upper zone of the Atlas; but, unlike _Cruciferæ_,
this order exhibits no endemic species, and four-fifths of the whole
number are common plants of Central and Northern Europe. _Rubiaceæ_
and _Boragineæ_ have more representative species than is usual in
mountain Floras; while there are but three species of _Rosaceæ_
in our list; and _Campanulaceæ_, _Primulaceæ_, _Coniferæ_,
and _Cyperaceæ_ are each represented by a single species, and
_Gentianeæ_ and _Junceæ_ are altogether absent from the higher
zone.
Although statistical results, such as those given above, are not
without interest, as throwing light upon the general characteristics
of the Flora of a given region, any rational grounds for speculation
as to the real affinities and past history of the vegetation must
be derived from a closer examination of the individual species
of which it is constituted. It is at least conceivable that two
Floras should exhibit similar proportions of species belonging to
the several natural groups, with no identical species, and with
little or no indication of community of origin. The particulars
given in our general list will have already led the reader to infer
that the results of an examination into the distribution of the
individual species that go to make up the Great Atlas exhibit some
very peculiar features. Taking the totals at the foot of our list,
and excluding cryptogams, it is seen that more than one-third of
the species are plants of Middle and Northern Europe, while about
one-sixth is made up of endemic species peculiar to Marocco, and,
with few exceptions, not known out of the Great Atlas, more than half
of the whole list belonging to one or other of these categories. The
results, as shown in the following table, are still more remarkable
when we separately examine the zones into which mountain vegetation
is naturally divided. As in the former table the figures first
entered in each column represent the number of species belonging to
each category, those next given showing the percentage proportion
borne by that number to the total proportion of each region.
TABLE II.—_Showing the distribution of the species of flowering
plants included in the Flora of the Great Atlas, and of the Sierra
Nevada of Granada,[2] and the Bulgardagh in Cilicia.[3]_
+-------------+------------+-------------+------------+------------+
| | | Wide-spread |Confined to | |
| |Mid-European|Mediterranean| adjoining | Endemic |
| | | | regions | |
+-------------+------------+-------------+------------+------------+
|Great Atlas, | 154 33·8| 165 36·2| 61 13·4| 75 16·6|
|including | | | | |
|all species | | | | |
|found above | | | | |
|1,200 m. | | | | |
|455 sp. | | | | |
| | | | | |
|Middle Zone | 106 31·1| 141 41·3| 46 13·5| 48 14·1|
|of Atlas, | | | | |
|from 1,200 | | | | |
|m. to 2,000 | | | | |
|m. 341 sp. | | | | |
| | | | | |
|Superior Zone| 78 44·3| 43 24·4| 20 11·4| 35 19·9|
|of Atlas, | | | | |
|from 2,000 m.| | | | |
|to 3,500 m. | | | | |
|176 sp. | | | | |
| | | | | |
|Superior Zone| 209 43·0| 74 15·2| 104 21·4| 99 20·4|
|of Sierra | | | | |
|Nevada, above| | | | |
|1,600 m. | | | | |
|486 sp. | | | | |
| | | | | |
|Bulgardagh | 159 18·0| 359 40·7| 157 17·8| 207 23·5|
|in Cilicia. | | | | |
|882 sp. | | | | |
+-------------+------------+-------------+------------+------------+
From this table we see that while over one-third of the whole
Atlas Flora consists of plants of Central and Northern Europe,
the proportion reaches nearly to one-half in the higher region
(above 2,000 metres); and also that the proportion of endemic
species, which in the aggregate is one-sixth of the whole, rises
to one-fifth in the upper zone. On the other hand, the proportion
of purely Mediterranean species, which amounts to 55 per cent. in
the Flora of the middle zone, falls below 36 per cent. in the upper
region. Of these Mediterranean species the large majority (more
than two-thirds) are widely distributed plants, several of them
extending to the mountains of Asia Minor, and twenty species only
are exclusively confined to the Great Atlas and to the mountains of
Southern Spain, the Lesser Atlas, or the Pyrenees. There is nothing
in the distribution of these latter plants to indicate any special
connection between the Atlas and any one of the mountain regions
above mentioned. Six Atlas species are common to Southern Spain
and the Algerian Atlas, six more are known only on the mountains of
Southern Spain, five have been hitherto supposed to be peculiar to
the Lesser Atlas, and three are elsewhere confined to the Pyrenees.
Some further light may be thrown on the origin of the Great Atlas
Flora by considering the affinities of the plants which are reckoned
in our list as endemic in Marocco, nearly all being confined, so far
as we know, to the chain of the Great Atlas. Although all of these,
along with some that we have classed as mere varieties, would be
counted as distinct species by many botanists, a considerable number,
amounting to more than a quarter of the whole, are, according
to the views expressed elsewhere by the writer,[4] to be ranked
as sub-species. But here again we fail to discover indications
of special relations between the Great Atlas Flora and that of
neighbouring mountain regions. Ranking as sub-species twenty-one
out of the seventy-five endemic forms enumerated in our list, we
find that ten of these are allied to widely spread Mediterranean
species, three are related to plants of Central Europe, three to
species common to Algeria and Southern Spain, three more to species
confined to the Spanish peninsula, and two to endemic Algerian forms.
If we scrutinise in the same manner the endemic forms of the higher
region of the Great Atlas, we find that out of the thirty-five
enumerated eight, or less than one-fourth, are to be ranked as
sub-species. Of these, three are nearly allied to wide-spread
Mediterranean species, one to a plant common to Spain and Algeria,
two to endemic Spanish species, one to an Algerian endemic form,
and one is related to a species indigenous in the Alps and other
high mountains of Central Europe.
While recognising the fact that the relations between the vegetable
population of the Great Atlas and that of the south of Spain are
less close than might have been expected on theoretical grounds,
we must yet admit that, on the whole, the Great Atlas is more
nearly connected in a botanical sense with this than with any other
mountain region that is known to us; and it becomes a matter of
some interest to compare closely the list of species obtained by us
in the Atlas, with the comparatively well known Flora of Southern
Spain. The results of this comparison are given for the Great Atlas
generally, and for the superior zone separately, in the following
table, in which the Atlas species are distinguished under five
heads: 1, those found in the higher region of the Sierra Nevada;
2, in the mountain region of Andalusia; 3, in the lower warm region
below the level of about 2,000 feet; 4, absent from Southern Spain,
but found in the central or northern provinces; and 5, those not
included in the Spanish Flora.
TABLE III.
[A: Superior region, Sierra Nevada
B: Mountain region of Andalusia
C: Lower region of Southern Spain
D: Central, or Northern Spain, exclusively
E: Absent from Spain]
+-------------------------------------------+----+----+----+----+----+
| | A | B | C | D | E |
+-------------------------------------------+----+----+----+----+----+
|Great Atlas Valleys. 455 sp. | 103| 82| 100| 44| 126|
|Superior region of the Great Atlas. 176 sp.| 61| 19| 20| 21| 55|
|Great Atlas Valleys. 455 sp. | 103| 82| 100| 44| 126|
|Superior region of the Great Atlas. 176 sp.| 61| 19| 20| 21| 55|
+-------------------------------------------+----+----+----+----+----+
The figures given in this table are of much interest, proving,
as they do, the wide differences that exist between the Floras
of two mountain regions not widely separated from each other, and
exposed to climatal conditions not altogether dissimilar. We see
that three-sevenths of the plants found in the higher region of the
Great Atlas are absent from the South of Spain, and that the same
remark applies to considerably more than one-third of all the plants
found in the portion of the Great Atlas visited by us, although a
notable proportion (in both cases) is to be found in Central and
Northern Spain. Especially noteworthy is the fact that many of the
species thus absent in Southern Spain are plants of Central Europe,
most of which extend to the northern part of the Spanish Peninsula,
although some of them are altogether wanting in the Floras of Spain
and Portugal.
A simple inspection of our list suffices to show that it discloses
no trace of affinity between the Great Atlas Flora and that of the
Canary Islands, or, to use a term of wider geographical import, that
of Macaronesia. The few species belonging exclusively to the latter
region and to Marocco are nearly all confined to the coast region.[5]
Almost all the species common to the Atlas and to Macaronesia are
widely spread Mediterranean plants that ascend from the low country
into the valleys. The solitary mountain plant belonging to this
category is _Arabis albida_, the southern form of _A. alpina_,
common in the East, and in the Apennines of Central and Southern
Italy, but which, strange to say, has not been found in Spain. In
Teneriffe, as in the Atlas, it ascends to about the level of 2,700
metres above the sea. The only fact suggesting a remote affinity
between the Great Atlas and Macaronesian Floras is the presence in
the former of a species of _Monanthes_, a generic group hitherto
found only in the Canary and Cape de Verde Islands. But the absence
of any closer connection clearly shows that the separation between
the Macaronesian group and the main land of Africa must date from
a period, even geologically speaking, remote.
When we come to sum up the results of the foregoing discussion,
bearing always in mind the fact that we possess a mere fragment of
the Flora of the Great Atlas, and that future exploration may largely
modify our conclusions, we find as its most striking characteristic
the presence of a large proportion of plants of Central and Northern
Europe, along with a considerable number of peculiar species not
hitherto known elsewhere; and we observe that these two constituents,
which together form about one-half of the Flora of the region here
discussed, amount to very nearly two-thirds of the species found
in the higher zone. We remark that of these northern plants none
are of Alpine or Arctic type, that nearly all belong to what has
been called the Germanic Flora, and all are plants of the plain,
not in Europe characteristic of mountain vegetation.[6]
Of the species belonging to the Mediterranean region, which
constitute more than one-half of the vegetation of the middle zone,
and about one-third of that of the higher zone of the Atlas, the
large majority are widely diffused species. The remaining number,
for the most part mountain plants, may be divided into three nearly
equal sections, some being common both to Southern Spain and Algeria,
others to the Atlas and Southern Spain exclusively, and others to
the Great Atlas and the Lesser Atlas of Algeria. Nothing indicates
any special connection with the Floras of either of those regions.
The absence of any distinct generic types from the Great Atlas
Flora has already been remarked. It is not less important to note
the absence of any of the southern types, characteristic of the
sub-tropical zone, some representatives of which are found in the
same or even in higher latitudes, in Arabia, Syria, Persia, and
Northern India, and which also appear in the Canary Islands. We
finally are led to regard the mountain Flora of Marocco as a
southern extension of the European temperate Flora, with little or
no admixture of extraneous elements, but so long isolated from the
neighbouring regions, that a considerable number of new specific
types have here been developed. The physical causes which have
operated to bring about these conditions are doubtless numerous and
complicated, but the most important of them are easily indicated. The
influence of the Atlantic climate, and the prevailing direction
of the aërial and oceanic currents, have fitted this region for
the habitation of such northern species as do not require a long
period of winter repose. In the present condition of the African
continent, the Great Desert, extending for a distance of 700 or 800
miles between the Atlas and the river region of tropical Africa,
effectually prevents the northward extension of most forms of animal
and vegetable life; while in a period geologically recent, it is
most probable that the same area was occupied by a wide gulf, which
served the same purpose of barring the migration of southern forms.
It may be premature to attempt to trace in further detail the
origin of the Great Atlas Flora; but the facts already ascertained
certainly authorise some negative inferences. The absence of plants
of Arctic type proves that if some mountains of Southern Europe
received contributions to their vegetation during the glacial
period by means of floating ice-rafts, that mode of diffusion did
not extend to the Great Atlas. If we suppose that during the glacial
period the temperature of the region north of the Atlas had fallen
so low as to permit the migration of northern species across the
intervening low country, we find it difficult to understand why so
many species which, according to this theory, must have retreated
to the Atlas on the subsequent rise of temperature, should have
failed also to find a refuge in the mountains of Southern Spain.
It is a further difficulty that if the constituents of the Great
Atlas Flora had, to a large extent, travelled by the route here
indicated, other species, now inhabiting the mountains of Southern
Spain, could scarcely fail to take the same road, and a much nearer
connection than is now apparent would have been established between
the Floras of these two mountain regions.
It is, at least, possible that the wide diffusion of many of the
species constituting the so-called Germanic Flora may date from
a period much more remote than is ordinarily supposed; and it is
a circumstance not without significance that so many species of
this type prove themselves capable of tolerating wide variations
in conditions of soil and climate.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: In the Superior Zone of the Sierra Nevada I include
all species found above the level of about 1,600 m., considering
this to correspond with the level of 2,000 m. in the Great Atlas.]
[Footnote 2: The name Sierra Nevada is here used in a wide sense,
and is intended to include the Serrania de Ronda, and the other
mountains of Andalusia. Under this head, the plants classed as
‘confined to adjoining regions’ are either common to the Sierra
Nevada and the mountains of Northern Spain, including the Pyrenees,
both Spanish and French, or else are common to the Sierra Nevada
and the mountains of Northern Africa.]
[Footnote 3: The Bulgardagh has been introduced into this table
rather for the sake of contrast than as showing similarity to the
conditions in the Great Atlas. The species classed as ‘confined to
adjoining regions’ are all found in the other mountain districts of
Asia Minor, and it has been necessary to include under the heading
‘Wide-spread Mediterranean’ a large number of Oriental species,
whose western limit is in Greece or Crete. As compared with the Great
Atlas, the number of species common to the western and south-western
parts of Europe is here quite insignificant.]
[Footnote 4: See ‘Spicilegium Floræ Maroccanæ,’ in _Proceedings
of the Linnæan Society_, ‘Botany,’ vol. xvi. parts 93 to
97 inclusive.]
[Footnote 5: The only possible exception to this statement among
the plants enumerated in our list is that entered as _Asparagus
scoparius_, Lowe (?) From the differences between the foliage and
that of other known species it was at first entered as a new species
peculiar to the Atlas. Subsequent comparison with a Madeira specimen
from the late Mr. Lowe suggested their possible identity. Should
this be hereafter verified, the number of endemic species in the
tables given above must be reduced from 75 to 74.]
[Footnote 6: The only apparent exception is _Sagina Linnæi_. This
is habitually a mountain plant; but in Germany it is often seen in
the moorland region, at a level of about 2,500 feet above the sea.]
* * * * *
APPENDIX H.
_Notes on the Geology of the Plain of Marocco and the Great Atlas._
By GEORGE MAW, F.G.S., F.L.S., &c.
Of the Geology of Barbary little information has hitherto been
put on record. The only publications with which I am acquainted
are some notes on the geological features of the district between
Tangier and Marocco in Lieut. Washington’s ‘Geographical Notice
of the Empire of Marocco,’ published in the first volume of the
‘Journal of the Royal Geographical Society;’ a few cursory
remarks on the Marocco Plain by Dr. Hodgkin, in his account of Sir
Moses Montefiore’s ‘Mission to Morocco in 1864;’ a short paper,
by Mr. G. B. Stacey, on the subsidence of the coast near Benghazi,
published in the twenty-third volume of the ‘Quarterly Journal of
the Geological Society;’ a report by M. Mourlon on some rocks and
fossils in the Museum of Brussels, collected in the north-west of
Marocco by M. Desquin, a Belgian engineer, published in Vol. XXX. of
the ‘Bulletin de l’Académie Royale de Belgique,’ for 1870,
to which I shall have further occasion to refer; a geological
memoir, by M. Coquand (‘Bull. de la Soc. Géolog. de France,’
vol. iv. p. 1188), on the environs of Tangier and northern part of
Marocco; and finally, a paper I read before the Geological Society
of London in 1872.
Barbary, with the exception of the immediate neighbourhood of a few
of the ports, has been almost inaccessible to Europeans; and the
extreme jealousy of the Moorish Government with reference to the
mineral riches of the country has hitherto prevented any geological
investigation. In the year 1869 I visited the northern portion of
Marocco, including the Tangier and Tetuan promontory, and during
the spring of 1871 accompanied Dr. Hooker and Mr. Ball to Mogador,
the city of Marocco and the Great Atlas, permission for our visit
having been obtained from the late Sultan through representations
made to the Moorish Government by Lord Granville through Sir John
D. Hay, our Minister Plenipotentiary at Tangier.
The object of the second journey was mainly botanical; and as an
engagement was given by Dr. Hooker that we should not collect
minerals, the opportunities for geological investigation were
very limited.
The observations I was able to make on the structure of the great
chain, which had not been previously ascended by a European,
and of the plain of Marocco, are embodied in the accompanying
section. Stopping for about a fortnight at Tangier, we made several
excursions in the neighbourhood. The western part of the northern
promontory of Marocco, facing the Straits of Gibraltar, consists of
highly-contorted beds of hard courses interstratified with brindled
yellowish sandstones and variegated puce and grey marls, having a
general dip to the south-east, but so twisted about that the dip
and strike are often reversed within a few feet. The country has a
general undulating contour, here and there rising up into ridges of
from 2,000 to 3,000 feet, in which the hard bands weathered out from
the softer strata are strikingly prominent from a great distance.
We observed no palæontological evidence of their age; but,
judging from their resemblance to the cliff-sections near Saffi,
where fossils occur, they are presumably Neocomian or Cretaceous.
Fucoids were collected by M. Coquand in the vicinity of Tangier,
in beds considered by him to be representatives of the Upper Chalk;
but M. Mourlon, referring to the works of Pareto and Studer on
the nummulitic rocks of the Northern Apennines and Switzerland,
inclines to place the Tangier fucoid beds above the nummulitic
horizon, and as part of the Upper Eocene. But near the villages of
Souani and Meharain, a little to the south of Tangier, undoubted
Cretaceous fossils were met with by M. Desquin, including
_Inoceramus_,
_Ostrea Nicaisei_,
_O. syphax_,
_Globiconcha ponderosa_ (?),
_Trigonia_ (casts), and
_Echinodermata_ (undeterminable);
and M. Mourlon concludes that the Tangier promontory consists of
Eocene beds resting on Cretaceous.
The eastern half of the northern promontory, including Tetuan and
Apes’ Hill facing Gibraltar, consists of beds of a different
character, for the most part of a hard metamorphic limestone,
in which dip and strike are very obscure: these may be a southern
extension of the Gibraltar limestone; but I had no opportunity of
tracing the connection to Tetuan.
The late James Smith, of Jordan Hill (in ‘Journal of Geological
Society,’ vol. ii. p. 41), mentions the occurrence of casts of
_Terebratula fimbriata_ and _T. concinna_, belonging to the Lower
Oolite, in the Gibraltar limestone. M. Coquand also assigns to
the Jurassic period the beds in the neighbourhood of Tetuan, and
divides them into four stages, characterised respectively by marls,
dolomites, a calcareous sandstone with the odour of petroleum,
and a lithographic limestone containing siliceous concretions. I
am of opinion that the Tetuan series, ranging with the Gibraltar
limestone, and probably extending far to the south, is separated
from the more recent Cretaceous series to the west and north-west
by a great north and south fault, which divides nearly equally the
Tangier promontory. M. Mourlon, referring to some specimens of shelly
limestone in the Brussels Museum, collected near the river Mhellah
in the district of Ouled Eissa, between Fez and Tetuan, resembling
the Muschelkalk in aspect, and associated with beds resembling
those at Tetuan, considers that they may also be of Jurassic age.
The Tetuan limestone has given rise to enormous beds of brecciated
tufa, on terraces of which the city is built. The flow seems to
have taken place from the hills to the north-west of the city,
and has produced beds of a collective thickness of 60 or 70
feet. This is evidently true tufa, due to aqueous deposition,
and is of a different character from the great calcareous sheet,
to which I shall have occasion further to refer, which shrouds over
the entire plain of Marocco.
Respecting the Mediterranean coast-line of Barbary, I will not add
much to a paper read before the British Association at Liverpool,
in which I remarked on the singular absence of coast-cliffs of any
height. The undulating contour of the land-surface extends down
to the water’s edge, a continuation of the form of the bottom
of the straits without the intervention of cliff-escarpments, from
which I surmised that the present sea-level and coast-line of the
straits had not been of long duration.
Of frequent changes of level on the Barbary coast there is abundant
evidence. The more recent seem to be, first, an elevation of from
60 to 70 feet along the entire coast, implied by the existence of
concrete sand-cliffs with recent shells exactly similar to the raised
beaches of Devon and Cornwall. These occur in Tangier Bay to a height
of 40 feet, resting on the upturned edges of nearly vertical mesozoic
beds; to the south of Cape Spartel, as a long cliff nearly 50 feet
high; as low shoals near Casa Blanca; as a compact cliff about 50
feet high at Saffi, and as a coast-cliff and islands at Mogador,
where the concrete sand-beds attain a height of 60 or 70 feet above
the sea-level. It seems probable that this elevation of coast-line
was coincident with a similar rise, implied by the existence of
concrete sand-cliffs, all along the Spanish and Portuguese coasts,
viz. on the eastern face of Gibraltar, where stratified raised
beaches are seen cropping up at a considerable height from under the
great mass of drift-sand in Catalan Bay; at Cadiz, as low cliffs
40 to 50 feet high, forming a hard coarse freestone of which the
city is built; and also at the Rock of Lisbon, where, at a height
of from 150 to 180 feet, isolated fragments of stratified concrete
sandstone are seen clinging to the sea-escarpment of the older rocks.
The great range of latitude included in this simultaneous coast-rise
suggests the probability that the elevation of similar coast-beds
in Devon and Cornwall may pertain to the same movement.
Judging from the evidence afforded by the coast near Mogador,
a subsequent submergence appears to be taking place. The island
is probably diminishing in bulk; and, from observations made by
M. Beaumier, the French Consul, it appears to have been reduced about
one-fourth in area in twenty years; but whether from denudation or
subsidence is not clear. The sea is, however, sensibly encroaching,
as an old Portuguese fort and some Moorish buildings are now
environed with sand and salt-marsh close to the sea, in a position
where they would not have been built. This submergence of the coast
at Mogador may perhaps be contemporaneous with the subsidence at
Benghazi, Barbary, described by Mr. G. B. Stacey in the twenty-third
volume of the ‘Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society.’
The general absence of cliffs characterises nearly the whole of the
Barbary coast. A few low cliffs occur at scattered intervals west of
Tangier; but from Cape Spartel to Cape Cantin a low monotonous coast
shelves under the waters of the Atlantic, and not a cliff is to be
seen, save an occasional raised beach. After rounding Cape Cantin
the coast trends nearly north and south; and here the first good
coast-section presents itself as a vertical cliff nearly 200 feet
high (fig. 1), consisting of nearly level stratified alternations
of grey and reddish marl, and fine-grained sandstone with beds of
argillaceous carbonate of iron resembling the cement-stone of the
Kimmeridge clay.
At a distance the cliff has a massive rocky aspect due to
the vertical infiltration of tufaceous seams, which support
the softer beds and stand out in prominent masses. The cliffs
continue southwards to Saffi, where I obtained a small series
of fossils from the section represented in fig. 1, amongst which
Mr. Etheridge has determined _Exogyra conica_, _Ostrea Leymerii_,
and _0. Boussingaulti_. He considers the beds to be of Neocomian
age. The hard band c is almost entirely made up of _Exogyra conica_.
I am indebted to the late Mr. Carstensen, H.B.M. Vice-consul at
Mogador, for a specimen of _Ostrea Leymerii_, brought
[Illustration: FIG. 1.
Cliff Section, Saffi.]
to him by a Moor from Agadir, and obtained, at a height of 1,500
feet, on the flanks of the maritime termination of the Great Atlas
range, 160 miles south of the Saffi section.
Two or three miles south of Saffi another section occurs, known
as the ‘Jew’s Cliff;’ and from this Dr. Hooker, who landed
on his homeward voyage, obtained a few fossils, viz. several
undeterminable species of _Pecten_; an _Ostrea_ allied to
_0. Virleti_, and a scutelliform _Echinus_ of an unknown type,
which Mr. Etheridge proposes to place under a new genus, and names
_Rotuloidea fimbriata_. All these Mr. Etheridge supposes to be of
Miocene age; and the ‘Jew’s Cliff’ section may probably give
the key to the age of the beds of the Marocco plain in which we found
no fossils. In connection with the occurrence of these Tertiary beds
at Saffi, I must refer to MM. Desquin and Mourlon’s observations
in the neighbourhood of Mazagan to the north-west, near which,
at a place called Sidi Moussa, calcareous tufas associated with
flints occur, containing
[Illustration: FIG. 2.
_Rotuloidea fimbriata_, Etheridge.
1. Dorsal aspect, showing the twelve fimbriations, subpetaloid
ambulacra and central madreporic tubercle.
2. Ventral aspect, showing mouth, position of vent, and ramifying
furrows.
3. Posterior border and height of test.
4. Apical disk, with the madreporic tubercle, the four genital
pores, and place of the five oculars.]
_Solen_, _Venus_, _Modiola_, _Cardium_, &c.; the deposit in its
main characters resembling the description given by M. Coquand
of the fluvio-marine travertines of the north of Marocco, and
also the Sahara beds described by M. Ville; with the difference
that the Sahara deposits are characterised by the presence
of little _Paludinas_, whilst those of Sidi Moussa are full of
vermiculiform perforations. The depressions are occupied by a very
porous conglomerate, passing into a calcareous sandstone used
for building. This conglomerate contains an abundance of _Helix
vermiculata_, a species living in the country, and also found in
the calcareous sands which are supposed to be of post-Pliocene
age. The plain of Doukala (_Ducaila_ of Washington), at a level
of about 140 feet above the sea, is covered with these sands. At
Sidi Ammer an escarpment was observed, the base of which consisted
of clay and red ferruginous marls, containing a stratum formed
for the most part of oysters, in which also _Teredina personata_
occurred, supposed by M. Nyst to belong to the Eocene formation;
succeeded by another fossiliferous bed containing
_Balanus sulcatus_,
_Pecten Beudanti_,
_Arca_,
_Buccinum prismaticum_, and
_Conus_,
supposed by M. Nyst to be Miocene, the upper part of the escarpment
resembling the beds of later age before described.
An examination of the higher points of the western coast near
Saffi, and at Azfi in the province of Abda, near Mazagan, tended
to establish the fact of the occurrence of Pliocene beds in the
district.
At Cape Saffi, 180 metres in altitude, a reddish calcareous sand was
met with abounding in _Cyclostoma_, _Cylindrellas_, and a species
of _Helix_ differing from that at Mazagan; and at other points,
including the hill of Aher and at Sidi Bousid, white marls and sands
associated with calcareous sandstones were met with analogous to
the supposed quaternary beds in the neighbourhood of Mazagan.
The only other point in the geology of the coast-line I have to
refer to is the great mass of blown sand surrounding Mogador,
presenting a weird expanse of sea-like waves of sand, on a scale
vastly greater than anything of the kind on our own coast, mimetic
of mountain-chains and bold escarpments in miniature, differing only
from true hill-and-valley structure in the absence of continuous
valley-lines, the hollows being completely surrounded by higher
ground. Many of the ranges of sand are from 80 to 100 feet in
height, and their perfectly straight scarped faces are produced by
the violent westerly gales blowing the sand up the angle of repose,
and accumulating it in fountain-like showers over the rounded backs
of the sand-hill ranges.
It is worthy of note that the sub-aërial ripple-markings
superimposed on the greater undulations, occupy a reversed position
with reference to the prevalent winds, their long side facing the
wind, with the more vertical straight scarps on the lee side. The
moving sand in this case is drifted up the long side, and falls
over the scarp at the angle of repose.
_The Plain of Marocco._—We now turn inland; and before referring to
the details of the structure of the Great Atlas range, it will save
repetition if I briefly describe the general contour of the district
under consideration. Leaving the sand-hills, which die out inland,
and travelling westward, we gradually ascend over an undulating
country, in aspect somewhat like the Weald of Sussex, covered for
30 miles with Argan Forest, till we reach, at 60 miles inland,
the average level of the plain, about 1,700 feet above the sea.
The fundamental rock is here rarely to be seen; for the entire face
of the country is shrouded over by a sheet-like covering of tufaceous
crust (fig. 3), rising over hill and valley, and following all the
undulations of the ground. Only in river-beds and here and there by
the side of a hill were the fundamental beds visible, and seen to
consist of alternations of hard and soft cream-coloured calcareous
strata, dipping and undulating in various directions at low angles,
and so closely resembling the surface crust that it was difficult
to distinguish the one from the other, unless the surface crust
happened to lap unconformably over the scarped exposures of the
stratified beds. This singular deposit varies in thickness from a
few inches to two or three feet, and is taken advantage of by the
Moors for the excavation of cellars in the soft ground, over which
the crust forms a strong roof. These are termed _matamoras_, and are
used for the storage of grain, and as receptacles for burying the
refuse from the villages. The calcareous crust in the neighbourhood
of Marocco is extensively burned for lime. In section it presents a
banded agatescent structure, often much brecciated. It is impossible
it can have been deposited by any waterflow, as completely isolated
hills are shrouded over by it as thickly as the valley bottoms;
and the only satisfactory explanation of its origin I can suggest
is, that it results from the intense heat of the sun rapidly
drawing up water charged with soluble carbonate of lime from the
calcareous strata, and drying it layer by layer on the surface,
till an accumulation several feet thick has been produced. The rapid
alternations of heavy rains and scorching heat which take place
in the Marocco plain are conditions favourable to this phenomenon,
which is unknown in northern temperate climates.
[Illustration: FIG. 3.
Surface.]
[Illustration: Section.]
A familiar illustration of the same kind of action is seen in what
brickmakers term ‘limewash.’ A brick formed of marl containing
soluble carbonate of lime, if rapidly dried or placed in the clamp
in a wet state, will have on its upper surface, after burning, an
unsightly white scum or crust, by the accretion of soluble matter
driven upwards and outwards by the quick evaporation. Before we
left Mogador on our journey inland, we were told of great beds of
shingle covering the plain, and fully anticipated some interesting
drift phenomena; but these shingle-beds were found to be nothing
more than the broken débris of the surface tufa, covering the plain
for hundreds of square miles with stony fragments. Of marine drift
there is not a vestige, the few isolated patches of waterworn stones
and alluvial shingle being always connected with river valleys,
excepting only the huge boulder deposits of the Atlas hereafter to
be referred to.
About midway between Mogador and the city of Marocco, the monotony
of the plain is broken by a curious group of flat-topped hills,
which rise two or three hundred feet above its
[Illustration: FIG. 4.
‘Camel’s Back,’ flat-topped hills in the Plain of Marocco.]
general surface. They present straight scarped sides, on which are
exposed cream-coloured calcareous strata capped with a flat tabular
layer of chalcedony, which seems, in arresting denudation, to have
determined their peculiar and symmetrical form. In these we found no
fossils; and I am doubtful whether they are an inland extension of
the Miocene beds observed by Dr. Hooker at the ‘Jew’s Cliff,’
near Saffi, or are some members of the Cretaceous series, of which
there are sections on the coast north of Saffi and on the flanks
of the Atlas.
At this point the main boundaries of the plain come into full
view,—on the north a rugged range of mountains trending east and
west, which we estimated at from 2,000 to 3,000 feet in height; and
on our right the great chain of the Atlas, rising 11,000 feet above
us and between 12,000 and 13,000 feet above the sea, bounds the view
to the south, framing-in the great plain, here some 50 miles broad,
which is lost as a level horizon in the eastern distance.
_The Atlas Range._—Commencing at Cape Guer, on the Atlantic
sea-board, the range, which at a little distance has the aspect of a
single ridge, averages at its western extremity from 4,000 to 5,000
feet in height, from which it slightly falls off in height for a
few miles, and then gradually increases in height as it recedes from
the coast. In the eastern part of the province of Haha the summits
probably attain to a height of about 10,000 feet. At a point about
60 miles from the sea there is a comparatively deep breach in the
range, through which runs the main road to Tarudant. Eastward of
that pass the projecting summits appear to lie between 11,000 and
11,500 feet above the sea to a distance from the coast of about
100 miles, and about SW. of the city of Marocco, where a second
depression occurs, affording a pass to the south, at an altitude of
about 7,000 feet. Immediately east of this, and due south of the
city of Marocco, the range for 30 miles in length presents a long
unbroken ridge, 12,000 feet in height, on which are deposited a
few isolated crags and peaks rising from 500 to 800 feet above the
general level; and it is doubtful whether this part of the chain
attains an extreme height of 13,000 feet. Still farther east the
ridge-like character is lost, the range becoming broken up into a
series of less continuous peaks (including Miltsin, estimated by
Lieut. Washington to be 11,400 feet in altitude, and supposed by
him to be the highest point in the chain) of diminished height:
beyond this, eastward, little or nothing is known either of the
altitude or character of the range, excepting that it trends NE. by
E. towards the southern borders of Algeria on the Sahara.
Rohlfs, in his journal of his overland journey from Marocco
to Tripoli, speaks of mountains to the east of Marocco being
covered with _perpetual_ snow; but this is a character which has
been erroneously attributed to the Maroccan section of the Atlas
range. When we arrived at Marocco in the first week of May, the
snow was limited to steep gullies and drifts—all the exposed
parts, including the very summit, being entirely bare. There
were, however, frequent storms, which intermittently covered the
range down to 7,000 or 8,000 feet; but it is certain that these
occasional falls would be rapidly cleared off by the summer heat;
and we came to the conclusion that there was nothing like perpetual
snow on any portion of the chain we visited, included in the section
(apparently the highest part) lying due south of the city of Marocco.
As seen from the city, the great ridge appears to rise abruptly
from the plain some 25 miles off; and so deceptive is the distance,
that it looks as though it were a direct ascent from the plain to
the snow-capped summit, even too steep to scale; but in reality
this wall-like ridge represents a horizontal distance of 15
miles or more from the foot to the summit. As we approached it, an
irregular plateau four or five miles wide was seen to form a sort of
foreground to the great mass of the chain, from 2,000 to 3,000 feet
above the plain, and 4,000 to 5,000 feet above the sea-level. This
is intersected by occasional narrow ravines, which wind up to the
crest of the ridge; and its face, fronting the plain, is for the
most part exposed as an escarpment of red sandstone and limestone
beds dipping away from the plain, and again rising from a synclinal
against the crystalline porphyrites of the centre of the ridge,
and unconformably overlying nearly vertical grey shaly beds with a
strike ranging with the general trend of the Atlas range. Against
the plateau escarpment rest enormous mounds of boulders spreading
down to the level plain.
These, then, are the general features of the chain of the Atlas and
plain of Marocco, the further details of which it will be convenient
to consider under the following heads:—
(_a_) Surface Deposits and Boulder Beds.
(_b_) Moraines of the higher valleys.
(_c_) Stratified Red Sandstone and Limestone Series.
(_d_) Grey Shales.
(_e_) Metamorphic Rocks.
(_f_) Porphyrites.
(_g_) Eruptive Basalts.
(a) _Surface Deposits and Boulder-beds._—Next to the Tufa crust
already described, which extends over almost the entire plain of
Marocco, perhaps the most remarkable feature in the physical geology
of the country is the enormous deposit of boulders that occurs in
the lateral valleys, and flanks the great chain on its confines
with the plain. Of marine drift there is not a trace; and alluvial
drift and valley gravels are very limited in their distribution,
being confined to the borders of a few insignificant rivers that
intersect the plain and the localities of occasional waterflows;
but as soon as the flanks of the Atlas are reached, new and distinct
drift phenomena present themselves. It was on our second day’s
journey from Marocco to the Atlas that the great boulder-beds came
under our notice, first in a valley leading up from Mesfioua to
Tasseremout, as scattered blocks of red sandstone, remarkable for
their large average size, many of them of from ten to twenty cubic
yards; but here the method of their disposition scarcely enabled
us to decide that they were other than stream-borne masses from
the higher ground. From Tasseremout we turned west, and at the
[Illustration: FIG. 5.
Boulder-mounds, skirting Atlas Plateau Escarpment. (Section.)]
mouth of a second valley, two miles from the village, suddenly came
upon a huge development of these Red Sandstone boulder-beds as great
ridge-like and very symmetrical masses with terminal faces three or
four hundred feet high, and, like the more scattered blocks NW. of
Tasseremout, intermixed with but a very small proportion of fine
matter. From this valley we turned out northwards, skirting the
escarpment facing the plain; and for more than ten miles no lateral
valley breaks into the cliff-like face; but below it the great
boulder-beds (figs. 5, 6) still occur in huge masses not resting
directly against the escarpment, but as isolated mounds two or three
hundred feet in advance, sloping down towards the escarpment in one
direction, and in the other rolling away in great wave-like ridges
and undulating sheets, which terminate at a well-marked line of
demarcation, just where the level portion of the plain commences. I
measured by aneroid the height of these mounds; and at one point
their summit was 3,950 feet above the sea-level, from which they
spread down uninterruptedly to the edge of the plain nearly 2,000
feet below. They bear a striking resemblance to the glacial ridges
or escars between Edinburgh and Perth; their mound-like structure is
distinctly visible from the city of Marocco, twenty-five miles off,
appearing like a row of pyramidal tali resting against the face of
the escarpment as though they had been cast down from its edge on
to the plain. The internal structure of the mounds also suggests
such a deviation from the
[Illustration: FIG. 6.
Boulder-mounds, skirting Atlas Plateau Escarpment.]
disposition of the boulders in layers sloping away from the
escarpment towards the plain; and on a nearer approach it is seen
that the individual mounds are not connected with channels or
valleys breaking through the escarpment.
The depression between the escarpment and the drift-mounds is a
remarkable feature, and suggests an entire change of conditions since
the boulder-beds were deposited. If they are a mere sub-aërial
talus, they should rest directly against the cliff face, and
the depression separating them must have been formed after the
accumulation had ceased; and yet no satisfactory reason can be
assigned for such cessation, if rain and river action were the only
operating causes. The form of the mounds in the valley west of
Tasseremout at once conveyed to me the impression that they were
of glacial origin; and the discovery of undoubted moraines in the
higher valleys strengthened my conviction that the boulder-mounds
and ridges flanking the Atlas plateau can only be satisfactorily
explained as the result of glaciers covering the escarpment,
leaving on their recession the intermediate depression.
(b) _Moraines of the Higher Atlas._—Kindred phenomena occur higher
up in the Atlas valleys, most notable in the case of unquestionable
moraines, commencing at the village of Adjersiman, in the province of
Reraya, at an altitude of 6,000 feet. Here we met with a gigantic
ridge of porphyry blocks, having a terminal angle of repose of
between 800 and 900 feet in vertical height, and grouped with
several other mounds and ridges of similar scale, all composed of
great masses of rock with little or no admixture of small fragments,
and completely damming up the steep ravine and retaining behind it
a small alluvial plain 6,700 feet above the sea-level.
We failed to detect any scratched blocks or striæ; but that
these ridges are true glacial moraines no one who has seen them and
compared them with other glacial phenomena would for a moment doubt;
and their interrupted occurrence at various heights is strictly in
accordance with the distribution of moraines in many of the Swiss
and Scotch valleys.
Lieut. Washington, in referring to the pointed mountainous hills
NW. of the city of Marocco, crossed on his homeward journey,
describes one of them as being ‘covered with masses of gneiss
and coarse-grained granite (? diorite), many of the blocks being
several tons in weight,’ and asks, ‘how got they there?’
‘If granite, the nearest granite mountains are at a distance of
twenty-five to thirty miles: can they be boulders?’ As far as my
own observations go, there was no rock _in situ_ in the part of this
range I visited near Marocco resembling granite or diorite; and in
connection with the boulder-mounds of the Atlas, the occurrence of
foreign blocks north of the plain of Marocco so far from the parent
source, is a circumstance of great interest.
(c) _Stratified Red Sandstone and Limestone Series._—A long
line of comparatively low and flattish hills, forming a plateau,
with an average height of about 4,500 feet above the sea, and 2,800
feet above the plain of Marocco, intervenes between it and the main
ridge of the Atlas. The edge of this plateau facing the plain is for
some distance an escarpment, exposing stratified beds of limestone
containing bands of chalcedonic concretions, underlain by grey
and puce-coloured marls. As this plateau is crossed from north to
south towards the Atlas ridge, its central line would represent a
synclinal, from which the beds rise northwards towards the plain
and southwards towards the Atlas; but it is locally broken and
contorted, and near Tasseremout the limestone beds stand up nearly
on end. South of the synclinal, _i.e._ between the centre of the
irregular plateau and the Atlas, great deposits of red sandstone
and dark-red conglomerate, interstratified with cream-coloured
shelly limestone, occur, which appear to be inferior members of the
series of limestones and marls exposed in the escarpment facing the
plain. Lieut. Washington, who ascended Miltsin to a height of 6,400
feet, describes hard red sandstone with an east and west strike
dipping 10° south, as occurring at this elevation, which is nearly
2,000 feet higher than we observed the Red Sandstone series in the
province of Reraya farther west, and also both in his approach
and descent from Miltsin of ranges of limestone running NE. and
SW. dipping 70° SE. with abrupt sterile sandstone mountains rising
above them. From the few obscure fossils, including an _Ostrea_,
I was able to collect from the limestone bands, Mr. Etheridge
considers that they are of Cretaceous age. They are, like the beds
of the plain, remarkable for containing great deposits of chalcedonic
concretions; but the latter may possibly be of more recent age. They
rest unconformably on the upturned edges of grey shaly beds, and
extend also over the porphyries that form the great mass of the
Atlas chain. They appear to have been deposited subsequently to
the porphyry ridge assuming its present hill-and-valley contour,
as little isolated fragments are seen clinging to the sides of
a narrow ravine leading out of the valley we ascended through
the province of Reraya to the Atlas. Their relation to the few
exposures of stratified beds in the plain is somewhat uncertain,
as no fossils were obtained in the latter, and there are no direct
connecting links; but, judging from petrological similarity, and
from the fact that Neocomian fossils occur in exposed beds on the
coast cliffs, and Cretaceous fossils in the beds forming the crest
of the plateau, it seems possible that an unbroken series occurs
from the cliff north of Saffi to the plateau skirting the Atlas,
representing the whole of the Cretaceous epoch; but it is also
open to question whether the level beds of the plain may not be an
inland extension of the strata of Miocene age from which Dr. Hooker
obtained fossils at the Jew’s Cliff south of Saffi.
(d) _Grey Shales._—At several points on entering the lateral
valleys of the Atlas, almost vertical shaly beds are crossed,
having a strike nearly east and west, corresponding with the trend
of the chain. They clearly underlie, and are unconformable to,
the Red Sandstone and Limestone series; and their almost vertical
position appears connected with one of the several upheavals
that have affected the chain. Of their geological age there is no
evidence, except that they are pre-Cretaceous. In places, as at
Assghin, they abound in nodules of carbonate of iron. Pale shales,
containing quartz veins, crop up near the village of Frouga,
in the plain south-west of Marocco, which may possibly belong to
this series; and if the porphyries forming the mass of the Atlas
are contemporaneous, they are probably interbedded with these grey
shaly beds. Lieut. Washington speaks of the occurrence of clay-slate
dipping 45° east between El Mansoria and Fidallah, and again of a
hilly country of clay-slate near the plain of Smira, and at Peira,
farther south; but it is impossible to say whether these beds are
related to the grey shales of the Atlas.
(e) _Metamorphic Rocks._—The most important development of
metamorphic rocks in the neighbourhood of Marocco is on the north
side of the city. In its immediate neighbourhood, three miles to
the north-west, a low rugged hill occurs, composed of a very hard
and compact dark-grey rock, containing knotted white concretions
elongated in the line of stratification, which dips from 50° to
80° south-west, the strike being north-west and south-east. The
whole of the north side of the plain is bounded by ranges of rugged
hills of similar form, and apparently rising from 2,000 to 3,000
feet above the plain. We had not an opportunity of visiting them;
but, judging from their outline, they are identical in formation
with the hill close to Marocco. We observed nothing in the Atlas
resembling it. Lieut. Washington, who crossed these hills on his
journey to Marocco at about the point I visited, and again forty
miles to the east, near the source of the river Tensift, on his
homeward journey, speaks of them as from 500 to 1,200 feet in
height, consisting of micaceous schist and a schistose rock with
veins of quartz dipping 75°, with a strike north by east and
south by west. The strike may vary a little at different points,
and, taking Lieut. Washington’s and my own observations together,
would average about north and south; and it is worthy of note that
these apparently ancient rocks are nearly at right angles to the
strike of the rocks of the Atlas chain a few miles to the south.
The only other metamorphic rocks that came under our notice
were:—first, white marble or metamorphic limestone, intercalated
with the porphyrites at the summit of the ridge of the Atlas south
of Arround; secondly, mica-schists, pierced by red porphyry dykes,
forming the mass of Djebel Tezah, a peak 11,000 feet in height,
and fifteen miles farther west, ascended by Dr. Hooker and Mr. Ball
after my return. It is possible that the mica-schists may be a
portion of the grey-shale series, metamorphosed by the intrusion of
the porphyry dykes. Lieut. Washington, on his first day’s journey
south of Tangier, refers to the occurrence of rounded schistose hills
about 300 feet high, strike north-west and south-east, dip 75°
south-west, containing mica-slate with veins of foliated quartz;
but I have no recollection of observing any such metamorphic rocks
between Tangier and Tetuan.
(f) _Porphyrites._—Of the eruptive rocks of the Atlas, porphyrites
and porphyritic tuffs occupy by far the most prominent position,
forming the great mass of its ridge.
On entering the lateral valleys, after crossing the vertical shaly
beds, great masses of red porphyrites and tuffs are met with,
associated with specular iron and occasional green porphyries. The
harder portions of the latter are seen as _Verde antique_ pebbles
in the river-beds; but we failed to detect this _in situ_. From the
large proportion of tuffs that occurs the porphyrites appear to be
interbedded, and are possibly contemporaneous with the vertical grey
shales to which they are adjacent. They are overlapped unconformably
by the Red Sandstone and Limestone series of Cretaceous age. The
late Mr. D. Forbes informed me that they bear a strong likeness
to the porphyrites of the Andes, of Oolitic age; but beyond the
fact that they were in existence and had undergone denudation into
hill-and-valley contour before the Cretaceous beds were deposited
over them, there is no certain evidence as to their age.
There may have been at least one or two subsequent intrusions of red
porphyrites, viz. of the dykes of Djebel Tezah, metamorphosing grey
shales into mica-schists, and of the dykes that break up through the
stratified beds of the plain east of Sheshaoua—which may probably
be more recent than the porphyrites of the Atlas, as they appear
to penetrate strata which extend over the denuded surface of the
Atlas mass; but I cannot speak with certainty as to the relative
age of the stratified beds and the porphyritic bosses which rise
up out of the plain.
(g) _Eruptive Basalts._—Of these we met with three distinct
species:—
(1) Black vesicular basalt (porous and compact pyroxenic lava with
olivine) on the coast near Mogador, and imbedded in the base of
the post-Tertiary concrete sandstone cliffs: but it was nowhere
seen _in situ_; and I think it possible that the fragments may have
been derived from the Canary Islands, which are only 70 or 80 miles
distant, or possibly from some point of eruption nearer the land.
(2) Amygdaloid green Basalt, which rises up in dykes, in many
places penetrating the Red Sandstone and Limestone series on the
flanks of the Atlas, and also piercing the diorite of the Arround
valley. We observed numerous dykes at Tasseremout, Tassgirt, and
Asni, south-east and south of Marocco city. Beyond the fact that
they are probably post-Cretaceous, there is no evidence as to their
age. From what we could see of their distribution, the whole range
of the Atlas seems abundantly intersected by these dykes.
(3) Diorite rises up in considerable masses among the porphyrites
in the valley of the Arround, due south of Marocco, but forms no
great proportion of the bulk of the ridge. Its intrusion may have
been contemporaneous with the dislocation and upturning of the Red
Sandstone and Limestone series overlying the porphyrites.
_General Summary._—It now only remains briefly to recapitulate
the order of sequence of the geological phenomena observed in the
plain of Marocco and the Atlas.
The oldest rocks that have been noticed are:—
(1) The ranges of rugged metamorphic rocks north of the city of
Marocco, and forming the northern boundary of the plain, respecting
the age of which, and the period of their upheaval and metamorphism,
there is no evidence.
(2) The interbedded porphyrites and porphyritic tuffs of the Atlas,
forming the backbone of the ridge, the age of which, and of the grey
shales with which they seem to be interbedded, is also uncertain.
(3) Mica-schists of Djebel Tezah, in the Atlas, south-west of
Marocco, pierced with eruptive porphyritic dykes, which may be
an altered condition of the vertical grey shales adjacent to the
interbedded porphyrites.
These rocks are our starting point, respecting which there is no
evidence of their age, or even relative age.
(4) We now come to a long period of denudation of the Atlas ridge,
and its sculpturing into hill-and-valley contour, before the
deposition of the Red Sandstone and Limestone series.
(5) The deposition over what is now the Marocco plain, of the
Cretaceous Red Sandstone and Limestone series (and beds possibly
of Miocene age), which also occupies pre-existing valleys in the
older porphyrites of the Atlas.
(6) The intrusion of diorite into the porphyrites and porphyritic
tuffs, probably accompanied by a further elevation of the Atlas
range, disturbing the stratified Red Sandstone and Limestone series,
throwing them into a synclinal trough, from which the beds rise
northwards towards the plain, and southwards towards the Atlas.
(7) A further long period of denudation of the Red Sandstone and
Limestone series, rescooping out the lateral valleys of the Atlas,
in continuation of the valleys that existed in the porphyrite ridge
prior to their deposition, and also denuding the beds in the Marocco
plain to the extent of at least 300 feet, leaving isolated remnants
as flat tabular hills rising above the present general level of
the plain.
(8) A further possible emission of red porphyrites through the
stratified beds of the plain, which may have been contemporaneous
with the eruption of the red porphyry dykes of Djebel Tezah, in
the High Atlas; but I could not clearly ascertain whether these
bosses really pierced the stratified beds, or were existing before
their deposition.
[Illustration: SKETCH ACROSS PLAIN OF MAROCCO TO WATERSHED OF
GREAT ATLAS
(Note _The Camels Back Hills & Frouga are West of the back of
section_)]
(9) A post-Cretaceous eruption through the Red Sandstone and
Limestone series of a multitude of dykes of amygdaloid basalt,
the age of which is uncertain.
The more recent changes commence with:—
(10) The formation of gigantic boulder-beds flanking the northern
escarpment of the Atlas plateau, and spreading down in great mounds
and undulating ridges from a height of 3,900 feet to the borders of
the plain, 1,900 feet above the sea, with a range in vertical height
of about 2,000 feet, and extending up the entrances of several of
the lateral valleys, as well-defined and symmetrical moraines.
(11) The formation of moraines at the heads of the Atlas valleys,
commencing at a height of 5,800 feet, and spreading up to the cliffs
of the Atlas ridge, to a height of between 7,000 and 8,000 feet,
with a terminal angle of repose 850 feet in vertical height.
(12) The formation of a plain of shingle behind the moraines,
at a height of about 6,700 feet, which seems to be the bed of a
small lake.
(13) The recession and extinction of glaciers in the Atlas range,
on which there is now not even perpetual snow.
(14) An elevation of the coast-line of at least 70 feet, represented
by the height of the raised beaches of concrete sand at Mogador and
other parts of the coast, which may possibly be contemporaneous with
the elevation of similar raised beaches on the coasts of Spain and
Portugal, and with the raised beaches of our south-western coast.
(15) A slight subsidence of the coast-line, now going on, with an
accumulation of extensive deposits of blown sand at Mogador.
(16) The formation of a tufaceous surface-crust over almost the
entire plain of Marocco, due to the drawing up to the surface, by
rapid evaporation, of water from the subjacent calcareous strata,
depositing, layer by layer, laminated carbonate of lime.
* * * * *
APPENDIX I.
MOORISH STORIES AND FABLES.
From much information that has been kindly furnished to us by
Mr. Freeman Rogers, a gentleman who was several years resident
in Marocco, and had become familiar with the people and their
language and manners, the following extracts have been taken for
the sake of the light which they throw on the condition of the
country. It being the main object of this volume to relate our
personal experiences, we have not been able to avail ourselves of
much information supplied to us by Mr. Rogers, and other competent
witnesses; but it has appeared to us that the extracts here given
form a useful supplement to the facts which came to our knowledge
during our short stay in Marocco, and will help the reader to form
a truer conception of its present condition.
The stories, which may be said to have a political character,
furnished to us by Mr. F. Rogers, all refer to events that have
occurred during the last twenty-five years, and are precisely
similar in character to others which were passing at the time of our
visit. They are accepted as substantially accurate by our informant,
and we see no reason to refuse them credence. They certainly tally
with the universal belief of the natives as to the conduct of their
rulers. Any one who is familiar with the chronicles of the Middle
Ages, who has marvelled at the deeds of ferocious cruelty recorded
of German petty rulers, or the more refined atrocities of Italian
princes, must sometimes have felt a wish to know what manner of men
they were who committed these deeds. To satisfy such a curiosity,
he cannot do better than pay a visit to the interior of Marocco. If
duly commended to their good offices, he will be received by
men of stately and courteous manners, prompt to display a lavish
hospitality, who will inevitably send him away with a favourable
impression; but before he has been many weeks in the country, he
will become aware that these amiable hosts are habitually guilty
of deeds of combined ferocity and treachery that equal, if they do
not surpass, those of the dark periods of European history.
The popular fables, which were taken down from the mouth of an
old Moorish story-teller, and literally translated by Mr. Rogers,
complete the impression derived from the fragments of contemporary
history. They all turn upon the success of fraud and force in the
affair’s of life. The moral, so to speak, of all is ‘woe to
the weak and the confiding;’ but admiration is mainly given to
those who supply the place of strength by successful perfidy.
_Abd el Saddock, Kaïd of Mogador, Duquallah, Abda, and Sous._[1]
On one occasion this Kaïd was sent to Sous by the Sultan
to reduce some provinces to submission. When arrived there,
a grand entertainment was given to him by the refractory Sheiks,
and immense quantities of provisions sent in to supply the guests,
among which was a large quantity of a particular dish of which the
Kaïd was known to be very fond, and this was all poisoned. The
Kaïd, suspecting from the Sheiks’ importunity for him to eat of
it that it was poisoned, ordered his soldiers to guard the doors
and let no one escape, and then called upon the Sheiks one by one
to partake of the dish. Most of the Sheiks refused to eat, and some
few came cheerfully forward at the Kaïd’s call; those who refused
were compelled to eat, and those who came cheerfully forward were
not allowed to eat; and so the Kaïd in one day not only got rid
of his enemies, but saved his friends, whom he rewarded by putting
them in the place of those who fell by their own treachery.
_Kaïd Boh Djemma._
Some short time after the news of the foregoing had spread over
the country, a revolt took place at Shedma, and many of the Sheiks
made themselves conspicuous by their opposition to the Kaïd, who
determined to get rid of all his enemies at one blow; he therefore
made peace with them, and all seemed well and tranquil for some
time. At last came the holiday _l’ashora_, or the day of the
Sultan’s tenthing, when an invitation was issued by the Kaïd to
all his Sheiks to appear at his entertainment; none dare refuse,
and so all went. The Kaïd had, in the meantime, prepared a large
room, into which he sent the Sheiks known to be his enemies, and
another into which he sent those known to be his friends. When
all had feasted until they could eat no more, the Kaïd quietly
ordered the windows and doors to be closed, the men to be bound,
burning charcoal to be placed in the room, and the doors then to
be built up, and all left to their fate. Nine days afterwards,
when the room was opened, nothing remained of all those men, some
twenty-two or twenty-three, but bones, attesting the fatal effects
of burning charcoal and the daring ferocity of the rats; except
one man whom the Kaïd pardoned, believing him to be innocent,
as his life seemed to be so miraculously preserved.
_What the Sultan means when he bestows a Wife._
The Kaïd of Shedmah, Boh Djemma, had distinguished himself
against some rebels who had risen against the Sultan, and the praise
bestowed upon him openly by his enemies in the hearing of the Sultan,
excited the suspicious sovereign’s anger and jealousy to such an
extent that he was determined to get rid of such a dangerous enemy;
in order to which he called for the Kaïd and praised his exploits
in the presence of all his great men, ordered him a suit of his own
royal clothing and a favourite horse, and promised him a wife out
of his own seraglio. The Kaïd rejoiced, and his enemies too: the
Kaïd, because he regarded himself as a favourite; and his enemies,
who were older and knew better, because that he was doomed. In a
few days the Kaïd was sent home and his new wife along with him
in great state, and in ten days more the Kaïd was carried to the
grave, he having died suddenly (poisoned by the Sultan’s female
executioner) in the night.
A similar occurrence took place with the Kaïd of Haha; but he had
a watchful and wise mother, who watched the new wife until she saw
her prepare a dish for her son, when she presented herself before
him, charged the new wife with her intended crime, and dared her
to eat of her own dish. The Kaïd’s eyes were opened, and he
compelled the Sultan’s lady, his new wife, to eat of the dish
which she had prepared for him, when she immediately died from the
effects of her own poison. This Kaïd ever after kept away from the
Sultan until, a few years ago, his evil genius prevailed on him to
obey the Sultan’s call, when he died within an hour after taking
supper with the Sultan.
_Abd el Saddock, Kaïd of Mogador, Duquallah, Abda, and Sous,
and his False Friend._
Some years since, the Kaïd of Mogador[2] (father of the Kaïd Hadj
Amara who entertained you when there) ruled over the provinces of
Duquallah, Sous, and Abda, and made a great deal of money during his
administration, and secured the love of all good Moors by his making
the Jews acknowledge their inferiority to the Moors. But suspecting
that his time to be squeezed by the Sultan had nearly arrived,
he determined to prepare for it, and so outwit a false friend, who
was an enemy of his, and the Sultan at the same time; in order to
which, he called upon his false friend, and invited him to dine with
him that evening in private as he had something to tell him. After
dinner the Kaïd told his guest that he was getting afraid of the
Sultan seizing him in order to get his money. ‘Now,’ said he,
‘I have a favour to ask of you, which is that you will carefully
preserve the treasure which I will show you, and when I am seized
upon take the keys of my house, but do not live in it, and when my
son Hamara knows how to use my money, then tell him of the box and
give him the keys; and further, I want you to swear that you will
never tell where I have hid my treasure, and that you will not tell
any one of what has passed this night.’ The false friend took the
oath with mental reservations, as would appear from the sequel. The
Kaïd then ordered four slaves to attend upon him, and all descended
to the cellar, where the money was concealed in a large strong wooden
box, buried in the ground. The box was then opened and was seen to be
full of silver and gold, &c. The Kaïd then had the box covered up,
and the false friend took his departure. After he went away, the
Kaïd returned with his slaves and had the money, but not the box,
removed to a really secure place, and had the box filled with bits
of stones and broken pottery and recovered over in the same manner
as it was before, when seen by the Kaïd’s false confidant; he
then had his slaves carried off to prison and put to death on some
pretext or other. The next day when the Kaïd’s confidant heard
of the slaves being dead, he knew it was to prevent their telling,
and concluded that it was the secret which he possessed which the
Kaïd wanted to guard, and that he alone knew of the secret of the
Kaïd’s wealth and its hiding place. In some short time afterwards,
an order came from the Sultan ordering Abd el Saddock up to Marocco;
upon which the Kaïd told his confidant of his trouble and begged
him to be true to his oath, blessed him, kissed him, and then went
to wait upon the Sultan. The Sultan upon seeing him ordered his
arrest and torture, accusing him of robbing him and his people, &c.;
upon which the Kaïd was carried off to the torture, when he kept
denying having any money, and being guilty of the charges brought
against him. At last the Sultan, losing all patience, sent him word
that he had received information, so the Kaïd had better speak the
truth at once, for such a one (the false friend) had declared that
he had a large box full of treasure, but was sworn not to tell of
its whereabouts. The Kaïd, therefore, must either tell or suffer
death by torture. At this the Kaïd pretended to be much alarmed,
and declared that nothing could be concealed from Seedna, so he
would confess the whole truth, and that what such a one said was
true and that it was concealed in such a place, and put there in
presence of such a one (the informer, the Kaïd’s confidant),
and that if the Sultan sent for it he would have it all. The Kaïd
was then put in prison, and notaries and soldiers sent for the money
under the guidance of the informer who was in great glee, thinking
that now his fortune was made and his favour with the Sultan secure;
but upon arriving at the cellar and the box being opened, nothing
but stones and broken pottery was found where there had been gold and
silver. Imagine the wretch’s horror as the notaries said he himself
must inform the Sultan, as they dare not do so; however, as there
was no use in lamenting, they returned to Marocco, and the informer
had to tell Seedna that there was nothing in the box but rubbish;
upon which the Sultan ordered the Kaïd to be brought before him and
demanded the meaning of such a thing. The Kaïd answered, ‘True,
our lord, it is that I did not oppress your people, and the money
hidden in that box was made by lawful means, and I reposed confidence
in my friend here, and left the money for my son; and so I told your
majesty truly that I had nothing, because it then became by my gift
my son’s money, and this, my false friend, has broken his trust,
robbed my son and Seedna, and then to cover his knavery, sought my
life by trying to turn our lord against me. I therefore beg that
our lord will make him confess what he has done with Seedna’s
money.’ The Sultan thought the informer simply wanted to make
him a fool to cover his knavery, and at once, in a passion, ordered
him to be flogged until he confessed. But as he could not confess
that he had taken the money and had none of his own to replace it,
the lash was continued until the wretch died under it. The Kaïd
was set free and restored to Mogador, and the informer’s son is
now assistant weigher at the Custom House, Mogador.
SIX MOORISH FABLES.
1. _Fable of a Hedgehog and a Fox._
Once upon a time a fox accidentally meeting a hedgehog addressed
him as follows, ‘I am much oppressed with thirst;’ to which
the hedgehog replied, ‘So am I, and I know a well where we can
drink.’ The fox then said, ‘Come along.’ They travelled on
till they reached the well where they found two buckets worked by a
pulley, one ascending whilst the other descended. ‘Now,’ said the
hedgehog, ‘I will go in first, and when I tell you, jump into the
other bucket.’ The hedgehog went down and had his drink, and then
shouted to the fox, ‘Now you jump in.’ He did as he was told, and
as he went down met the hedgehog coming up in the ascending bucket;
upon seeing which he said, ‘What does this mean?’ The hedgehog
answered thus, ‘It is the world goes round:’ and when he was
safely at the top, and the fox had reached the bottom, he called
down to him and said, ‘Those who want to kill me I catch them in
a trap, and to those who do me a good turn I do the same to them.’
2. _The Camel, the Hedgehog, and the Lion._
Once upon a time there was a camel who met with a hedgehog, and
the camel tried to trample on him. The hedgehog said to the camel,
‘Wait till I call my brother, he is able to kill both you and
me.’ ‘No,’ said the camel, ‘if he comes he will perhaps kill
me.’ ‘No, no,’ said the hedgehog, ‘if you wish to see him,
lie down on your belly or on your back, open your mouth and let the
flies come in, and appear as if you were dead.’ The camel said,
‘All right.’ ‘Well, well,’ said the hedgehog, ‘I will go
call my brother.’ The hedgehog went away to look for a lion, and
meeting with one, said, ‘Your servant, my lord; there is a wild
beast which wishes to eat me.’ The lion replied, ‘Will he eat
_me_?’ The hedgehog said if he were there he certainly would; but
he has gone away to get food, ‘but my lord, if you would like to
see what he has procured for his breakfast, come along with me.’
The lion said, ‘You go first.’ ‘Very well I will do so,’
said the hedgehog, ‘and when you follow and get near, roar with
all your might.’ The lion said, ‘All right.’ The hedgehog
said, ‘I shall go first.’ So away went the hedgehog, and said
to the camel, ‘Now, he is coming you lie still; don’t stir or
he will eat you.’ The camel said, ‘All right;’ and whenever
they heard the roarings of the lion, the camel said to the hedgehog,
‘Listen to the noise he makes while talking.’ The lion then drew
nearer and roared again; when the camel exclaimed, ‘In the name of
the most merciful God, is he going to eat me?’ The hedgehog said,
‘Don’t stir, don’t fear.’ The camel said, ‘All right.’
They waited till the lion came, when the hedgehog addressed him,
and said, ‘This is a morsel of the breakfast the monster is going
to eat.’ The lion and the hedgehog now bade each other adieu; and
when the lion had departed the hedgehog said to the camel, ‘Now
you may get up, but tell me which of the two is master.’ The camel
replied, ‘It is you, it is you; good morning.’ The hedgehog said
to the camel, ‘Are you going away?’ The camel replied, ‘Yes,
my lord, I am;’ and from that day to this they have never spoken.
3. _The Snake, the Hedgehog, the Man, and the Hunters._
The Hedgehog personates the Kadi.
The Hunters „ the Soldiers.
The Snake „ the People.
The Man „ the Sanctuary.
Once upon a time there were some hunters, who went out to hunt a
fairy embodied as a snake. The snake being pursued meeting with
a man passing by, said to him, ‘Will you afford me protection,
for there are hunters following, who want to catch me?’ The man
answered, ‘Very well,’ and allowed the snake to be concealed
in his clothes; presently the hunters came up to the man and
asked him whether he had seen a snake, to which he answered no,
and the hunters passed on in pursuit. After the hunters had left,
the man asked the snake to go down. The snake said, ‘No, and if
you attempt to force me down, I will kill you.’ The man said to
the snake, ‘Very well, let us go to the Kadi and hear what the law
says.’ The snake said, ‘Very well, come along.’ So they went
on till they came to the hedgehog, who was Kadi; and the man said,
‘Your servant, my lord; here is a snake that I have saved from
the hunters, and I have told him to get down, but he would not.’
The hedgehog addressed the snake, and said, ‘I will decide the
law for you, but first get down.’ The snake at once got down,
and then demanded of the hedgehog what the law said. The Kadi then
addressed the man as follows: ‘The snake is on the ground and
a stick is in your hand.’ The man, taking the hint, struck the
snake on the head and killed it.
4. _The Sheep, the Fox, the Lion, and the Shepherd._
Once upon a time a fox met a lion, and the lion, addressing the
fox, said, ‘Will you be my servant to catch sheep for me? The fox
said, ‘I will, if you will give me my share.’ The lion said,
‘No, and if you eat a single bit, I will kill you.’ ‘Very
well,’ said the fox, ‘if that is the bargain, I will agree to
go hunt for you.’ So away went the fox and hunted about till he
found some sheep, one of which he killed and ate. He then went off
to the owner of the sheep and said, ‘The lion sent me to hunt
your sheep for him, but I would not do so, and he came himself
and ate one, and I have run to tell you.’ ‘Very well,’ said
the shepherd, ‘you shall be the guard over my sheep, and let me
know when the lion comes;’ and the fox said, ‘All right.’ So
he waited till the evening, and then went to guard the sheep; and
whilst on guard he killed and devoured two more, and afterwards,
making a little wound in his own leg, he ran off to the shepherd,
and said, ‘The lion has come and eaten two sheep, and wanted to
eat me also; see the wound he made in my leg.’ The shepherd said,
‘I see it is true; I will put two men to assist you to guard.’
The fox said, ‘All right; I will go hunt for something to eat,
and then return.’ So he went off in search for the lion, and
meeting him, said, ‘I know where there are lots of sheep; they
are in such a place, you come in the evening to eat them.’ The
lion said, ‘All right.’ The fox then ran back to the shepherd,
and said, ‘The lion is coming to-night,’ and directed the men
who were to assist in guarding to conceal themselves, but before
doing so to bring a big sack into which the fox put a great stone,
and waited till the lion came. When the lion came he said to the fox,
‘Why have not you killed me a sheep?’ The fox said, ‘Because
I was afraid of a great monster that none but you can master, and
there he is in that sack; go in and kill him.’ The lion said,
‘All right,’ and went in, when the fox tied securely the mouth
of the bag, so that the lion could not get out. The fox then said
to the lion, ‘Have you found him?’ The lion replied, ‘No,
no, I have not, and it is funny I cannot get out.’ The fox said,
‘Push away, try and get out.’ The lion said, ‘I cannot.’
The fox said, ‘Probably the monster holds you there.’ The fox
said to the lion three times, ‘Can’t you get out?’ and three
times the lion replied, ‘I cannot.’ The fox said, ‘He who
wishes to kill me I catch him in a trap, and to him who does good
to me I will do good in return.’ So he went away and called the
guard, and said, ‘There he is, beat him;’ so they beat him,
and beat him till they were tired; and at last broke his leg. The
fox said to the guard, ‘Now let him out, he has broken his leg and
cannot escape;’ and when the lion got out the fox, addressing him,
said, ‘Now, which is master?’ The lion replied, ‘You are my
master;’ and the fox said, ‘Whoever wishes to eat me at one
time will try again,’ and turned to the men and ordered them to
kill him. After which the fox said, ‘Now that we have killed the
lion, good-bye;’ and the men replied, ‘Good-bye.’ He went
away, and waiting till evening, and returning at supper time, he
wounded the leg of each remaining sheep, and ran off to the owner
and said, ‘A monster bigger than the last has come and wounded
all your sheep.’ Previous to this the fox went to the market,
and bought a suit of clothes, and sprinkled them with the blood
of the sheep, and made it appear as if the big monster of whom he
spoke had also killed a man. He then said to the owner, ‘All your
sheep are spoiled; we had better kill them and make a feast.’ So
the shepherd killed the rest of the sheep, and ate them with the
fox; and when they had finished, the fox filled a bowl with dirty
water. The owner after he had finished his breakfast, said, ‘What
am I to do now? The sheep are killed.’ The fox said, ‘Now I
will tell you how it all happened.’ The man said, ‘How?’ The
fox said, ‘Not till you open that door so that the light is let
in;’ and then said quickly, ‘It is I who killed your sheep;’
he then threw the dirty water in his face, and made off.
5. _The Pigeon and the Monkey._
Once upon a time as a pigeon was passing by he met with a monkey. The
monkey said to the pigeon, ‘Come, let us play;’ and the pigeon
said, ‘Very well, what shall we play at?’ The monkey put up
a stick and proposed they should get up it. The pigeon agreed,
and the monkey said, ‘Which shall go up first?’ The pigeon
said,‘You.’ The monkey said, ‘All right,’ and tried but
could not manage it; upon which the pigeon immediately flew to
the top. The pigeon said, ‘Now it is my turn to say, ‘What
shall we next try?’ The monkey said, ‘All right.’ So the
pigeon challenged the monkey to tie his tail to his leg, and when
he had accomplished it, and untied it, he said, ‘Come, let us see
whether you can tie your wing to your leg.’ The pigeon said ‘All
right,’ and fastened his wing to his leg, but could not undo it;
and the monkey devoured him.
6. _The Hyena and the Hedgehog._
Once upon a time there was a hedgehog travelling in quest of
something to eat, and saw a hyena coming towards him with intent
to devour him. As soon as the hyena had reached him, he said, ‘My
lord, I observe that you are dirty and stand in need of a bath, and
if you require one I have a bath at your service in my house.’ The
hyena replied, ‘Yes, it is true, I am much troubled with fleas,
please come along and give it me; but first come to my house and
breakfast, and then we will go to the bath.’ The hedgehog said,
‘That is just what I want, for I am out now looking for food.’ So
the hedgehog went to the hyena’s house and had his breakfast. The
hedgehog then said, ‘Now come along and take your bath.’ The
hyena said, ‘All right.’ So they went to the hedgehog’s
house and the bath was heated to boiling. The hedgehog said to the
hyena, ‘Now jump into the bath, and scratch yourself.’ So the
hyena jumped in; whereupon the hedgehog closed down the lid, and
tied it with a string. The hyena said, ‘This is too hot for me,
I want to get out.’ ‘No, no,’ said the hedgehog, ‘it is
far better for you to be there than for me to be in your belly;
bawl away till you are dead.’
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Abd el Saddock was the father of Hadj Hamara, the Kaïd
of Mogador, by whom we were hospitably entertained soon after our
arrival. The father appears to have cumulated important offices to
an extent now rare, if not unknown, in Marocco. As the Sultan’s
hold over the province of Sous is very feeble, and limited to
the occasional receipt of tribute, there is no resident Kaïd,
but the title is given to any official sent, _pro hâc vice_,
to represent the Sultan. But the provinces of Duquallah and Abda,
like the rest of the settled country, are ordinarily administered
by resident governors.]
[Footnote 2: The same of whom the first story is related above.]
* * * * *
APPENDIX K.
_On the Shelluh Language._
By JOHN BALL.
Jackson in his ‘Account of Marocco’ refers to the opinion of
Marmol, that the Shelluhs of Marocco and the Berebers (Kabyles)
of Algeria speak the same language, as altogether incorrect,
and positively affirms, on the contrary, that these languages are
quite distinct. In proof of this assertion, he gives a short list
of Shelluh words or short phrases, with the Bereber equivalents of
most of them, and concludes, from the differences between these,
that the languages are profoundly, if not radically, different. A
comparison of this kind is so notoriously misleading that no
importance would have been attached to the conclusion derived from
it, were it not for the fact that Jackson was well acquainted with
the Shelluh language, probably better than any other European has
since been; and that although not versed in comparative philology,
a science not yet come into existence in his time, he was a man of
good general intelligence who seems to have had frequent occasion
to compare the two languages.
The first person who was able to speak on the subject with any
authority was Venture de Paradis, a man of remarkable linguistic
attainments, who died prematurely while accompanying the French
Syrian Expedition in 1799. His grammar and vocabulary of the Bereber
language were not published until 1844, and his conclusions were
not until then made known to the world. It appears that in the
year 1788 two Shelluhs, one a native of Haha, the other from Sous,
went to Paris. Notwithstanding the difficulty of communicating with
men who possessed no written language, Venture de Paradis contrived
to obtain from them a list of Shelluh words and short phrases. He
was very soon after attached to a mission sent to Algiers, where
he was detained for more than a year. He made acquaintance with
two Kabyles, theological students, at Algiers, and, finding that
his list of Shelluh words corresponded very nearly with the Kabyle
equivalents, he devoted himself to the study of the Kabyle dialect
of the Bereber tongue, and prepared the grammar and dictionary
which remained for more than half a century unpublished. It might
be sufficient to refer the reader to the judgment of so competent
an authority; but a slight examination of the subject has afforded
such confirmation to the conclusions of Venture de Paradis as seems
to place them beyond the reach of controversy.
It must be remarked in the first place that, from the want of sacred
books or other written records among the races of the Bereber stock,
there is no one of the many dialects spoken by them that can be taken
as the classical standard to which others may be compared. French
writers in treating of what they style ‘la langue Berbère’
usually mean the Kabyle, spoken by most of the mountain tribes of
Algeria. The same language, with dialectic differences, is used by
many tribes of the Sahara; but throughout the larger part of the vast
region lying between the southern borders of Algeria and Marocco and
the Soudan, the prevailing tongue, though unquestionably belonging
to the Bereber family, deserves to rank as a distinct language from
the Kabyle. A slight examination of the latter shows that it has
been largely adulterated by contact with the Arab population, who
from an early period have ruled the open country and carried on all
commercial intercourse; while the characteristic grammatical features
have been in many respects obscured or effaced. On the other hand,
it appears from a recent publication by General Faidherbe[1] that
the dialect spoken at the south-western limit of the Bereber races,
adjoining the river Senegal, while preserving the chief Bereber
grammatical characteristics, has undergone much etymological
alteration, whether from contact with the Negro tribes, or from
inherent causes. As far as the available materials enable us to
form a judgment, it seems clear that the best living representative
of the Bereber language is that spoken by the Touarecks of the
Great Desert, and especially by the great tribes, the Azguer and
Ahaggar, who occupy between them a territory measuring at least
half a million of square miles. Of this, which is properly called
Tamashek’, a grammar was published by General Hanoteau in 1860,
and another by Mr. Stanhope Freeman in 1862. The Tamashek’ is
distinguished from the other languages of the same family by the
greater regularity and completeness of its grammatical system, by the
comparative absence of Arab words, of which the Kabyle shows a large
infusion; but especially by the possession of a system of writing,
rude, indeed, and imperfect, but not known to any other branch of
the Bereber stock. This privilege has not led to the growth of a
national literature; the written characters are used only for rock
inscriptions, for mottoes on shields, and occasionally for verses
on festive occasions; but their use is widely spread among men of
the higher class, and still more among the women, and, however
restricted, has doubtless tended to give comparative fixity to
the language.
Of the Shelluh tongue the materials available are, indeed, very
scanty. The most considerable document is contained in the ninth
volume of the ‘Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society,’ where
Mr. Francis Newman has given a literal Latin version of a story
written in Arabic characters by a native of South Marocco. It would
require far more knowledge of the Shelluh language and familiarity
with Arabic writing than I possess to enter on any examination
of that document; and there is the further difficulty that the
natives who learn to write their own language in Arabic characters
are usually those who also acquire the Arabic language, and in so
doing learn to adopt Arabic phrases and forms of speech. In the
following table I have introduced all the Shelluh words given by
Jackson and Washington, of which I have been able to find equivalents
in Kabyle or Tamashek’, and have endeavoured to adopt a uniform
mode of orthography. The vowels are intended to have the sounds
to which they correspond in most European languages, and not those
peculiar to England. _Th_ and _sh_ have nearly the same sounds as
in English; _gh_ before _e_ or _i_ has the hard sound; and _r’_
indicates the peculiar sound intermediate between the guttural and
the ordinary _r_, which European travellers indicate sometimes by
_r_, and sometimes by _gh_. In several instances synonyms are given
in brackets.
+------------+--------------+---------------+---------------+
|English |Shelluh |Kabyle |Tamashek’ |
+------------+--------------+---------------+---------------+
|Man |argaz |ergaz |ales |
| | | | |
| |{tamraut} |{themthout} |{tameth |
|Woman |{ } |{ } |{ |
| |{tamtout} |{themgart } |{tamethout |
| | | | |
| | | |{abaradh |
|Boy |ayel |ashish |{ |
| | | |{amaradh |
| | | | |
|Girl |tayelt |tehayalt |tamarat |
| | | | |
|Slave |issemgh |ismigh |akli |
| | | | |
| | |{eïss } | |
|Horse |ayiss |{ } |ayiss |
| | |{aghmar} | |
| | | | |
| |{aroum } |{aram } |{amnis |
|Camel |{ } |{ } |{ |
| |{algrom} |{elgroum} |{amagour |
| | | | |
| |{izimer } |{thiksi} |{izimer |
|Sheep |{ } |{ } |{ |
| |{djellib} |{thili } |{ekraz |
| | | | |
|Mule |tasardount |aserdoun | — |
| | | | |
|Boar |amouran |mourran |azibara |
| | | | |
|Cow |tafounest |tefonest |tes |
| | | | |
|Green lizard|tasamoumiat |tesermoumit | — |
| | | | |
| | |{eman} | |
|Water |amen |{ } |aman |
| | |{aman} | |
| | | | |
| |{tagora } | | |
|Bread |{ } |aghroum |tagella |
| |{aghroum} | | |
| | | | |
| | |{aifki } | |
|Milk |akfaï |{ } |akh |
| | |{aghfaï} | |
| | | | |
|Meat |ouksoum |aksoum | — |
| | | | |
| | |{tighliim } | |
|Eggs |tikellin |{ } | — |
| | |{thimillim} | |
| | | | |
|Barley |toumzīn |toumsin |timzin |
| | | | |
| |{tena } | | |
|Dates |{ } |tini |teini |
| |{tinie} | | |
| | | | |
|Green figs |akermous |tibaksisin | — |
| | | | |
|Honey |tamint |thament | — |
| | | | |
|Sun |atfoukt |tefoukt |tafoukt |
| | | | |
|Mountain |adrar (_plur_ |edrar (_plur._ |adrar (_plur._ |
| |idrarn) |ouderan) |idrarn) |
| | | | |
|Palm tree |taghinast |jat faroukt | — |
| | | | |
|Year |aksougaz |ezoughaz |aouétai |
| | | | |
|Morning |zir |ighilwas |ifaout |
| | | | |
|To-morrow |azgah |ezikka |toufat |
| | | | |
|Village |thedderth |tedert | — |
| | | | |
| |{tikimie } |{tighimi} | |
|House |{ } |{ } | — |
| |{tigameen} |{akham } | |
| | | | |
|Wood |asr’oer |esghar |asr’er |
| | | | |
|Dinner |imkelli |elles |amekchi |
| | | | |
| | |{ikf } | |
|Head |akfie |{ } |ir’ef |
| | |{akfai} | |
| | | | |
|Eyes |alen |ellin |tiththaouin |
| | | |(_sing._ tith) |
| | | | |
|Nose |tinzah |inzer | — |
| | | | |
|Feet |idarn |idaren | — |
| | |(_sing._ adar) | |
| | | | |
|Go |aftou |eddou |eg’al |
|(_imper._) | | | |
| | | | |
| | |{as } |as (come, or |
|Come |ashi |{ } |go) |
| | |{eshkad} | |
| | | | |
|Give |fikihie |efki |ekf |
| | | | |
|Eat |aïnish |itch |eksh |
| | | | |
|Call |irkerah |kera | — |
| | | | |
| | |{ghaouer} |{r’im |
|Sit down |gaouze |{ } |{ |
| | |{aguim } |{ekk’im |
| | | | |
|Good |egan ras |delâli |elkir r’as |
+------------+--------------+---------------+---------------+
It will be seen that, as regards thirty out of thirty-five
Shelluh substantives here enumerated, the Kabyle equivalents are
distinguished only by dialectic differences, and the same holds as
to at least four out of six verbs. It thus appears, as far as the
evidence goes, that there is as much verbal resemblance between these
tongues as between Italian and Spanish, or other allied languages
belonging to the same stock. The comparison with the Tamashek’
shows a less close etymological relationship. Out of twenty-four
substantives for which Tamashek’ equivalents have been found,
twelve only, and two only out of five verbs, show identity of
origin. But it is interesting to find indications that the Shelluh
retains a closer conformity to the rules of Tamashek’ grammar than
does the better known Kabyle language. In the very few cases where
a comparison is possible we find, indeed, absolute identity. Thus
the Shelluh word for boy (_ayel_), is apparently not found either in
Kabyle or Tamashek;’ but the feminine form (_tayelt_), for girl,
precisely follows the rule of Tamashek’ inflexion for gender,
and a slight modification of this (_tehayalt_) is found in the
Kabyle. A somewhat similar example is the word _tasardount_
for mule, this being the regular feminine form of the Kabyle
name, _aserdoun_. The word _adrar_ (mountain) forms its plural
_idrarn_ exactly according to rule, and both singular and plural
are identical with the Tamashek’ forms; while the Kabyle shows
dialectic differences, especially in the plural where the final
_r_ of the singular is lost. The last word in the list affords an
illustration of the liability to error incurred by a traveller
attempting to form a vocabulary of a language with which he has
but a slight acquaintance. _Good_ is here used in the sense of a
satisfactory answer to inquiries, pretty much as _all right_ is
adopted in colloquial English. Jackson was doubtless familiar with
the expression _egan ras_, which he gives as the Shelluh equivalent,
and which we also often heard from the natives; but the _ras_ of the
Shelluh is obviously the same as the Tamashek’ adverb _r’as_,
meaning _only_, or _exclusively_, which invariably follows the word
_elkir_ in the corresponding Tamashek’ reply, _elkir r’as_.
It has not appeared necessary to add to the table given above a
column for the corresponding words in the Zénaga language from
the vocabulary given by General Faidherbe. The amount of verbal
similarity between this and the Shelluh is very trifling, and the
distinguished author referred to was doubtless misinformed when
led to express a belief in their close connection.
The time is perhaps not yet come for forming a definitive judgment
as to the origin of the Bereber languages, and the precise nature of
the relations between them and the ancient language of Egypt on the
one hand, and those of the Semitic family on the other. The present
writer feels his own incompetence to grapple with questions of such
difficulty, and will merely refer the reader to the conclusions
recently announced by M. de Rochemonteix as those which appear to
carry with them the greatest weight.
In his essay, published in 1876,[2] the learned writer finds that
the ancient Egyptian and the Bereber possessed the same pronominal
roots, and employed the same methods for forming their inflexions
and derivatives; and he arrives at the same opinion with reference
to the inflexions of the substantives. He further asserts that the
modifications which time and external conditions have effected
are of a superficial character, and in no way conceal the close
grammatical affinity of these languages. Whether this affinity be
due to direct inheritance, or to common descent from a more remote
ancestral stock, is a question not touched by the writer, who bases
his conclusions on a study of two only of the Bereber dialects,
the Kabyle and the Tamashek.’[3]
With reference to the relation indicated by the conjugation of the
Bereber verb, in which the grammatical processes show a considerable
affinity with those of the Semitic languages, while the comparison
of the verbal elements shows no token of common origin, M. de
Rochemonteix expresses the opinion that at an early period of
their development, the Bereber people must have been brought into
contact with the Semitic stock, and may well have been struck by
the advantage of precision obtained by systematic conjugation of
the verb, and thus gradually moulded their own rude tongue on the
model supplied to them.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: _Le Zénaga des Tribus Sénégalaises._ Paris, 1877.]
[Footnote 2: _Essai sur les rapports grammaticaux entre l’Egyptien
et le Berbère,_ par le Marquis de Rochemonteix. Paris, 1876.]
[Footnote 3: It is of some interest to remark that the latest
conclusions of philologists on the affinity of the North African
dialects, substantially agree with the testimony of the earliest
writer who came in contact with them. The following passage is
taken from the original version of the description of Africa by
Leo Africanus, published by Ramusio in his famous work ‘Delle
Navigationi et Viaggi:’ Venetia, 1563, vol. i. p. 2 f. The Moorish
writer divides the indigenous white population of Northern Africa
into five races, enumerated by him, and then continues: ‘Tutti
i cinque popoli—i quali sono divisi in centinaja di legnaggi, et
in migliaja di migliaja d’habitationi, insieme si conformano in
una lingua la quale comunemento è da loro detta Aquel Amarig, che
vuol dir lingua nobile. Et gli Arabi di Africa la chiamano lingua
barbaresca, che è la lingua africana nathia. Et questa lingua
è diversa et differente dalle altre lingue: tuttavia in essa pur
trovano alcuni vocaboli della lingua araba, di maniera che alcuni
gli tengono et usangli per testimonianza, che gli Africani siano
discesi dall’ origine d’i Sabei, popolo, come s’è detto
nell’ Arabia felice. Ma la parte contraria afferma, che quelle
voci arabe che si trovano nella detta lingua, furono recate in lei
dapoi che gli Arabi entrarono nell’ Africa, et la possederono. Ma
questi popoli furono di grosso inteletto et ignoranti, intanto che
niun libro lasciarono, che si possa addurre in favore nè dell’
una nè dell’ altra parte. Hanno ancora qualche differenza tra
loro non solo nella pronontia, ma etiandio nella signification di
molti et molti vocaboli. Et quelli che sono più vicini a gli Arabi,
et più usano la domestichezza loro, più similmente tengono de loro
vocaboli arabi nella lingua. Et quasi tutto il popolo di Gumera’
(the Rif Country) ‘usa la favella araba, ma corrotta. Et molti
della stirpe della gente di Haoara parlano pure arabo, et tuttavia
corrotta. Et ciò aviene per haver lunghi tempi havuta conversazione
con gli Arabi.’]
* * * * *
APPENDIX L.
_Notes on the Roman Remains known to the Moors as the Castle of
Pharaoh, near Mouley Edris el Kebir._
Communicated by Messrs. W. H. RICHARDSON and H. B. BRADY, F.R.S.
Learning that a party of English travellers had visited these ruins
in the spring of 1878, and believing that they had not been seen
by any European traveller since Jackson visited the place early
in the present century, we were anxious for information respecting
them; and in reply to our request we received an account of their
visit kindly drawn up by Messrs. W. H. Richardson and H. B. Brady,
F.R.S. We have also been favoured with the loan of a sketch executed
by Mr. G. T. Biddulph, who formed one of the same party, from which
the vignette given p. 487 is taken.
After the notes were in the hands of the printer the appearance in
the ‘Academy,’ No. 32, p. 581, of a very full account of the
ruins by Dr. Leared, already well known as a successful Marocco
traveller, informed us that the ruins had been visited by him in
1877, in company with the members of the Portuguese mission to
the Sultan, and about the same time by some members of the German
Diplomatic Mission. Dr. Leared has fully succeeded in establishing
the identity of the so-called Castle, or Palace, of Pharaoh with
the Roman town of Volubilis, and has left little to be said on that
point. Nevertheless the ruins are interesting enough to make the
additional notes of other travellers useful and valuable; and we
have therefore availed ourselves of the greater part of the paper
kindly sent to us by Messrs. Richardson and Brady.
‘One of the points we had determined to visit on our tour
was the ruin known by the Moors as “Pharaoh’s Palace,” or
“Pharaoh’s Tomb.” The time of our journey was in some respects
unfortunate for visiting places held in veneration by the natives; we
were, in fact, staying in Fez at the time of Mohammed’s birthday,
when religious fanaticism exhibits itself, not merely in holidays
and powder-play, alternating with devotional exercises, but in
processions to the shrines of saints, and in sundry manifestations of
ill-will to unbelievers. We had considerable difficulty in obtaining
intelligible information as to the exact site of the ruins. Our
idea had been that they ought to have been accessible from the
road between Alcazar and Fez, striking off near Sidi Guiddar. The
interpreter and the mounted soldiers who were with us, overruled this
when it was proposed, and we therefore continued our journey. They
were probably right; but in our various conversations with them on
the subject they managed to convey the impression that either they
did not themselves know the precise locality, or that they did not
intend that we should visit the place.
‘During our stay in Fez we were joined by two Englishmen,
Messrs. G. T. Biddulph, and F. A. O’Brien, whose acquaintance we
had made in Tangier, and we proceeded to Mekinez in company. Mekinez
is a sort of Mecca to the Aissowies—the most fanatical of all
the sects of western Mohammedans—and the road was thronged with
devotees returning from their annual pilgrimage to the city of
Mohammed-ben-Aissa, their prophet. We were kindly received by the
Lieutenant Bashaw (Kaïd Hamo), who seemed desirous to forward
our views in every way in his power. He thought it necessary on
our departure to provide us with a soldier who knew the district
thoroughly, so that altogether we had a guard of four regular
soldiers. Thus furnished, the tone of our interpreter changed,
and we had no more obstacles thrown in our way.
‘We proposed to make the Roman station the first stage on our
road from Mekinez to Rabat. Whether it would have been better to
have taken it, as we had originally intended, on the way to Fez,
or subsequently, between Fez and Mequinez, it is needless now to
inquire; it certainly is a good deal out of the direct route between
Mekinez and Rabat, if maps are to be trusted. However, we got on
the way on March 23 a little after 10 A.M. The site of the ruin is
some fifteen miles north-west of Mekinez, at no great distance from
Mouley Edris el Kebir; both are on the southern slopes of one of
the ranges that constitute the Lesser Atlas. There was little of
interest by the way. Part of the road was on the horizon of a bed
of white, friable, microzoic, tertiary limestone, which forms a
conspicuous feature in the mountain strata of this district. This
is traceable for a great distance, and its exposure at one or two
points in the heights to the far east, we had at first mistaken
[Illustration: Roman ruins of Volubilis.]
for snow. After about four hours’ riding we had to diverge from
the main road; and here we learned that it would be necessary to
encamp at some distance to the south-west, in the last _douar_
within the government of Mekinez. The hill-country, it was said,
was so infested by a lawless set of Berebers that we should not
be safe out of the jurisdiction of the Bashaw. Before the evening
was out we had reason to know that these fears were not entirely
groundless. Leaving our servants with the luggage, therefore, we took
two soldiers and rode across country to the object of our journey.
‘The ruins stand on a little hill, a mile or more from the road. At
the base of the hill runs a bright little mountain stream. The ground
for many acres is strewed and heaped with squared stones, the débris
of ancient buildings; lines of wall-foundations appear in every
direction, and pillar bases in rows or squares, arranged as though
for the support of colonnades surrounding courts or _patios_. The
demolition is no doubt largely due to spoliation, but it is also
partly the result of the unstable character of the mortar, which has
to a great extent weathered out from between the stones. In some of
the walls still standing the stones appear to retain their places
by their own weight rather than by the help of any cement that is
left to hold them together. Two perfect Roman arches still remain,
and one or two nearly complete, but even these look as though they
might not long withstand the mountain winds.’[1]
+---------+
| A X C |
| P I A E |
| B S I |
| T I |
+---------+
‘In the present condition of the place it is impossible even
to guess what was the original ground-plan of the buildings. The
principal frontage appears to have had the west aspect, and there is
still the remnant of a sort of façade. Amongst the fallen stones of
this front is part of an entablature which has borne an inscription
in four lines. We could only find one stone of it; and this bore
the following letters, about eight inches in height. There were the
shafts of many marble columns amongst the fallen stones, and not a
few capitals, some simple, others more or less carved with volutes,
Ionic fashion, and one at least with the remnant of acanthus leaves,
as though derived from a Corinthian building. Some of the mouldings
had the common egg and arrow ornament, and there was a portion of
a narrow frieze on the western side with one of the common frets
of classic architecture formed of a double series of interlacing
[Illustration]
curved lines; but beyond these there was but little decorative
sculpture. There is clearly a basement storey of very large
stones lying underneath the present ground level. Here and there
the subsidence of the ground, or the falling in of the masonry,
reveals passages and what appear to be small rooms or vaults, with
solid, well constructed walls. In the short hour that circumstances
permitted us to linger, it was impossible to do more than observe
things as they stood. The mere removal of the loose stones would
do a good deal, and a very little excavation would do much more, to
indicate the history of the original structures, and we have little
doubt that many inscribed stones might still be found that would
help materially to the same end. On the north side of the western
arch and façade is a sort of enclosure formed of loose stones piled
together as a rude wall, and whitewashed. This wall has been reared
by pilgrims, each of whom has carried and placed a stone, according
to their custom, at what they regard as a “saint’s place.”’
Up to the year 1877 no traveller appears to have visited the ruins
since Jackson, who twice refers to them in his ‘Account of the
Empire of Marocco.’ In a note to p. 21 (3rd Edition, 1814) he says:
‘The father of the Sultan Sulieman built a magnificent palace
on the banks of the river of Tafilelt, which bounds his dominions
on the eastward; the pillars are of marble, and many of them were
transported across the Atlas, having been collected from the (Ukser
Farawan) Ruins of Pharaoh near the sanctuary of Muly Dris Zerone,
west of Atlas.’ In another place (p. 146) he says: ‘When I
visited these ruins in my journey from the sanctuary of Muly Dris
Zerone, near to which they are situated, in the plain below, the
jealousy of the (Stata) protecting guide sent by the Fakeers to
see me safe to the confines of their district was excited, and he
endeavoured to deter me from making any observations by insinuating
that the place was the haunt of large and venomous serpents,
scorpions, &c. A good number of cauldrons and kettles filled with
gold and silver coins have been excavated from these ruins.’
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The vignette is taken from a sketch by G. T. Biddulph,
Esq.]
[Illustration: A NEW MAP OF SOUTH MAROCCO
BY JOHN BALL, F.R.S]
INDEX.
ABDA, province of, 73
— horses of, 73
Abraham, 79, 156, 209
Acacia gummifera, 99, 337, 393
Achliz, 172, 180, 181
Adenocarpus anagyrifolius, 175, 197
Adjersiman, 199, 203
Adonis, crimson, 16
Africa, tropical, mountain flora of, Appendix, 421
Agadir, 80, 374, 382
— plants from, 327
Agave americana, 10, 28
Aïn Beïda, halt at, 117
Aïn El Hadjar, 317
Aïn Oumast, 107, 108
Aïn Tarsil, defile of, 300
— rock dwellings at, 300
Aït, definition of, 184
Aït Mesan, 190
— camp in, 194, 237
— halt in, 193
— people of, 235
— valley, ascent of, 195
— vegetation of, 210, 424
Aizoon canariense, 161
Akassa, 373, 376
Akermont, plain of, 320
Akka, oasis of, 336
Alaternus, 10, 210
Algeciras, 58
Algerian flora, characteristic species of, 255
Allium nigrum, 27
Almond, 29, 39
Altitudes in Morocco, Appendix, 357
Alyssum montanum, 261
— spinosum, 219
Ambak, or Omback, 98, 195, 334
American aloe, 10, 28
Amsmiz, town of, 246
Amsmiz, governor of, 247
— position of, 249
— return to, 272
— valley, geological structure of, 254
— — head of, 258
— — vegetation of, 255, 424
— — view of, 252
Anagyris fœtida, 101
Ancient buildings, rarity of, 116
Ancient town, remains of, 116
Andrachne maroccana, 297
Andropogon laniger, 153
Andryala mogadorensis, 87, 340
Angera mountains, 5, 45
Anti-Atlas, 262
Antirrhinum ramosissimum, 245
Ape’s Hill, 5, 37, 45
Apteranthes gussoniana, 87
Aquilegia vulgaris, 268
Arab village, 24
Arabis pubescens, 48
Arar, 99, 389
Argan tree, 96, 311, 395
Arisarum vulgare, 342
Arround, 199, 214, 226
— our house at, 215
— villagers in trouble, 272
Artemisia Herba alba, 107, 117, 124
Arthrocnemum fruticosum, 114
Artichoke, wild, 322
Asfi, or Saffi, 73
Ash, southern species, 29, 210
Asperula hirsuta, 172
Asphodels, 17
Asphodelus cerasiferus, 28
— tenuifolius, 98
Asplenium Hemionitis, 20
— marinum, 23
— Petrarchæ, 295
Assghin, 180
Asteriscus imbricatus, 87
Atlantic rollers, 66
Atlas, Great, central range of, 200
— approach to, 161
— aspect of, 200
— elevation of chain, 227
— fauna of, 233
— first view of, 106, 108
— geology of, Appendix, 457
— height of, 121, 155, 227, 242, 263, 265
— hill forts of, 166, 241, 293, 297
— last view of, 321
— mountain flora of, 202, 230, Appendix, 423
— mountain tribes of, 184, 187, 233
— outer rampart of, 159
— outer ranges, vegetation of, 189
— panorama of, 154
— sterile aspect of Western, 296
— summit ridge of, 223
— topography of, Appendix, 385
— trees and shrubs of middle region, 177, 209, 251
— trees of upper region, 218, 267, 268
— view of, from Sektana, 242
Atlas, Lesser, 35
Atractylis macrophylla, 194, 302
Atriplex Halimus, 114
Aurora Borealis, 14
Avena barbata, 109
Azemour, 72, 120
BAD ROUB, gate, 137
Balansa, M., 82, 191, 280, 300
Barberry, 267
Barley, 197, 200, 216
Beaudouin’s map, 151, 276, 303, 384
Beaumier, M., 87, 129, 154
Bedis, Belis, 57
Bee eater, 30
Bellis annua, 17
Ben Daoud, Governor of Morocco, 126, 136
Ben Dreis, palace of, 137
Beni, definition of, 184
Beni Hassan, 9, 37
Beni Hosmar, 37
— ascent of, 41
— vegetation of, 41-47
Berberis cretica, 268
Bereber, or Riffian families, 46
Berebers, 84, 85
— their language, Appendix, 478
Blanco, Cape, 73
Boissier’s ‘Voyage en Espagne,’ 62
Boucerosia Maroccana, 87
Boulder deposits of the Atlas, 170, 458
Brady, Mr. H. B., Appendix, 485
Brass workers, 335
Brassica geniculata, 145
— a new species of, 285
Broom-rape, 118
Broussonet, M., 82, 164
Bulbo, 25, 33
Bupleurum canescens, 315
— spinosum, 219
CABO NEGRO, 51
Caillé, his journey from Timbuktou, 336
Calendula suffruticosa, 16
Callitris quadrivalvis, 99, 177, 323, 389
Calluna vulgaris, 18
Calycotome villosa, 42
— spinosa, 42
Camel’s back, ascent of, 111
Campanula dichotoma, 100
Canals for irrigation, 124
Canarians, of Pliny, 375, 377
Canary Islands, flora of, Appendix, 404
Cantin, Cape, 73
Capparis ægyptica, 243
Carex divisa, 115
Carob trees, 10, 29, 31. _See_ Ceratonia
Caroxylon articulatum, 114
Carstensen, Mr., 75
— meeting with, at Shedma, 311
Carum mauritanicum, 98
Casa Blanca, 67, 68, 69, 344
Castle of Pharaoh, Appendix, 485
Catananche cærulea, 189
Cedar, Atlantic, 46
Celastrus europæus, 177
— senegalensis, 177
Centaurea Clementei, 44
— incana, 308
— maroccana, 109
Cerastes, or el efah, 319, 340
Ceratocnemum rapistroides, 161
Ceratonia Siliqua, 169, 178, 183, 193
Ceratophyllum, 337
Ceuta, 7, 45, 54
Chalcedony, 112
Chamærops humilis, 17, 28, 101, 165
Charlock, 114
Cheiranthus semperflorens, 95
Chrysanthemum Catananche, 232
— coronarium, 26
Cistus ladaniferus, 18
— monspeliensis, 165, 322
— polymorphus, 165
— species of, 321
Citrus wood of the Romans, 390
Cladanthus arabicus, 107
Clematis cirrhosa, 28, 176
— flammula, 176
Cleonia lusitanica, 165
Coast climate, humidity of, 70, 92
Cock, sacrifice of, 223
Convolvulus sylvatica, 41
Coronilla ramosissima, 189
— viminalis, 164
Coronopus Ruellii, 123
Cosson, M., 3, 327
Costume, travelling, 78
Cotyledon hispanica, 113
Cuckoo, 32
Cucumis Colocynthis, 113
Cynara acaulis, 291
— eatable roots of, 292
— humilis, 28
— hystryx, 192
Cytisus albidus, 101
— tridentatus, 19
DAISY, blue, 17, 198
Dandelion, 114
Dar el Beïda, 67
Daucus maximus, 307
Davallia canariensis, 20
Demenet, province, 147, 152, 367, 394
Diet, bad effects of, 287
Diorite, 222
Diotis maritima, 23
Diplomatic conversation, 146
Djebel Aoulouse, 262
— Hadid, 313, 321
— — iron mines of, 317
— Kebir, 5, 9, 10, 17
— — vegetation of, 10
— Tezah, 252
— — ascent of, 259, 261
Djinns, or demons, 223
Douar, or native village, 24, 116
Douar Arifi, 96
Douerani, 280
— hospitable chief of, 281
Drosophyllum lusitanicum, 19, 22, 48
Dupuis, M., 67
Dust columns, 122
Dyris, ancient name of Atlas, 295, 375
EBENUS pinnata, 107
Echinoderms, fossil, 340, 451, 452
Echinops strigosus, 153
Echinospermum barbatum, 192
Echium modestum, 109
El efah, 340
El Fondak, 32
El Ghoreb, 82
El Graoui, governor of Great Atlas, 76, 125, 136
— house of, 146
— interview with, 126, 145
— parting with, 153
— present to, 148
El Hadj Hamara, 75, 471
El Penon de Velez, 56
Elæoselinum exinvolucratum, 286
— new species of, 107
Elder trees, 197
Ephedra altissima, 164
Erica, species of, 18
Erodium atlanticum, 289
— petræum, 45
Eryngo, 26
Escort, rapacity of, 174, 212
— trouble with, 182
Euphorbia Beaumieriana, 337
— pinea, 297
— resinifera, 337, 388
— rimarum, 297
Euphorbium, 163, 328, 388
Europa Point, 62
Evax Heldreichii, 232
Fanaticism, Moorish, 235
Fashook gum, 386
Ferula communis, 68
Fez pottery, 9
Fish, fresh water, 72
Flora of North Marocco, 18
Forests, neglect of, 177, 235
Forskåhlea tenacissima, 153
— Cossoniana, 153
Frankenia revoluta, 112
— velutina, 37, 340
Fraxinus dimorpha, 176
Fraxinus oxyphylla, 29, 210
Fringillaria Saharæ, 156
Fuertaventura, vegetation of, 417
Furbioun, 163, na, 84
Furbioun, 163, 388
GENISTA, species of, 320
— clavata, 28
— monosperma, or R’tam, 95, 124
— triacanthos, 19
Geranium dissectum, 114
Gers, river, 375, 377
Gibraltar, rock of, 60, 347
— voyage to, 1
Glacier, ancient moraine of, 199
Glaucium corniculatum, 100
Goats feeding in trees, 97
Gooseberry, 198, 261
Governor in chains, 37
Grass, esparto, 335
Gum ammoniacum, 386
— arabic, 337, 393
— cistus, 10, 18
— Sandrac, 177
Gurgouri, 243, 244
Guzula, 264
Gypsophila compressa, 107
HAHA, Kasbah of, 309
— Kaïd, cruelty of, 309, 330, 331
— — hospitality of, 309
— people, outrage by, 330
— province of, 99
— — disturbed state of, 298, 329
Hamed, 212, 334
Hand mills, 22
Hank el Gemmel, 111
Hanno, Periplus, 301, 372
Hanoteau, General, his Tamashek’ grammar, 430
Hardman, Mr., 52
Hasni, camp at, 194, 207, 237
— departure from, 239
Hay, Sir J. D., 2, 8, 9, 11, 64
Hedysarum membranaceum, 176
Helianthemum, species of, 322
— lasianthum, 58
— umbellatum, 48
— virgatum, 124
Helix, clusters of, 27
— explanata, 111
— lactea, 111
Hemicrambe fruticulosa, 41
Hercules, cave of, 22, 23
Hercules, straits of, 62
Hills, origin of flat-topped, 112
Hollar, engraving by, 13
Horticulture, Moorish, 105
Hunot, Mr., 127, 138, 338
Hypochæris radicata, 114
IBERIS, gibraltarica, 44
Imintanout, district of, 293
Iminteli, 253, 269
— Jew’s house at, 254
— night ride to, 269
Import duties, Moorish, 53
Indian fig, 27, 169
Information, difficulty of procuring, 149, 275
Instincts, barbarous survival of, 190
Interpreter, 25, 33
Iris germanica, 200
— sysyrhynchium, 17
— tingitana, 63
Iron mountain, 313
Irrigation, native skill in, 196
Isatis, 197
JACKSON’S ‘Account of Marocco, 80, 296, 384, 489
Jewish exports and industries, 49, 50
— festival, 50
— suppliants, 169
Jews’ Clift, 339
Jews, condition of, 157
— friendly, 254
Jordan, Mr., his journey to Sous, 341
Juba, King, 374
Juniperus oxycedrus, 210, 252
— phœnicea, 42, 55, 178, 210, 219
— thurifera, 218
KABYLES, 84, 85
— their language, 478, 479
Kaïd el Hasbi, 157, 173, 185, 245, 248, 334
Kelaart’s Flora Calpensis, 62
Keskossou, 93
Kief, 46
Koubba, 117
Koutoubia, tower of, 131, 142
‘LADY HAVELOCK,’ return on board, 338
Lanzarote, vegetation of, 417
Laraish, 26
Lavandula abrotanoides, 113
— multifida, 113
Leared, Dr., Appendix, 386, 483
Lempriere, Mr., his journey, 383
Lentisk, 10, 31, 42, 68, 210
Leo Africanus, 203, 264, 379, 484
— his account of the Berebers of Djebel Hadid, 318
Leontodon hispidulus, 145
Leopard, anecdote of, 14
Lighthouse of Cape Spartel, 21
Linaria heterophylla, 240
— maroccana, 240
— sagittata, 100
— ventricosa, 101, 197
Lithospermum apulum, 35
— fruticosum, 19
Lixus, river, 301, 372
Lizard, remarkable, 289
Locusts, destroyed, 158, 159
— ravages of, 82
Lonicera etrusca, 210
Lotononis maroccana, 176
Lotus creticus, 23
— marrocanus, 176
— Salzmanni, 23
Lowe, Rev. Mr., 82
Lupin, blue and yellow, 16
Lycopus europæus, 115
Lygeum Sparteum, 192
MACARONESIAN flora, Appendix, 405, 420, 444
Madder, 216
Maize in the Atlas, 200, 216
Malcolmia littorea, 26
— nana, 56
Mamora, forest of, 67
Map, French War Office, 36, 384
Marabout, 9
Marmol, prisoner at Fez, 378
Marocco, city, 125, 133
— — approach to, 125, 126
— — bazaars of, 153
— — behaviour of people of, 129, 145
— — carpets of, 153
— — current coin of, 141
— — difficulty as to lodging in, 129, 130
— — distant view of, 182, 290
— — elevation of, 153
— — gardens of, 143
— — unfriendly Governor of, 127
— — Great Square of, 134
— — interior of, 128, 129
— — map of, 150
— — plain of, 120
— — population of, 342
— — routes from, Appendix, 366
— — serpents of, 156
— — start from, 157
— — vermin of, 131
Marocco, empire, barbarism of, 12, 349
— — climate of, 15, 317, 345, 349
— — economic plants of, Appendix, 386
— — Flora of, compared with tropical African, Appendix, 421
— — geology of, Appendix, 446
— — native races of, 85
— — prisons of, 229, 230
— — prospects of, 350
— — resources of, 348
— — table of altitudes in, 362
— — wild animals of, 14
— — wild birds of, 156
Marocco, South, geography of, Appendix, 371
Marrubium, new species of, 249
Matthiola parviflora, 107
Maw, Mr., departure of, from Sektana, 243
— — his return to Mogador, 293
— — on geology of Marocco, Appendix, 446
Mazagan, 71, 72, 344
— European origin of, 72
Medicago suffruticosa, 232
Medical advice, native desire for 186, 187, 209, 241
Mediterranean, change of level of, 23
Melilla, 56
Mercator’s Atlas, 378
Mesembryanthemum nodiflorum, 123
Mesfioua, district of, 159
— Kaïd of, 162
Milhain, 196, 299
Miltsin, peak of, 121, 154
Mint tea, 93, 105
Misra ben Kara, 118, 119
Mogador, arrival at, 75
— climate of, 88-90, 327
— departure from, 95
— disturbances at, 329, 333
— exports of, 91
— final departure from, 338
— Governor, dinner with, 92, 93
— island, 80, 86, 450
Mogador, neighbouring country of, 81, 82
— return to, 325
— society of, 91
— town of, 80, 81
‘Mogador et son climat,’ by V. Seux, 91
Mona, or offering of food, 103, 108, 115, 198, 203, 292
Monanthes, new species of, 268
Montefiore, Sir Moses, 137
Montia fontana, 219
Moorish escort, 79
— government, defects of, 235
— ideas, 140
— stories, Appendix, 466
Moors, diet of, 288
— endurance of, 119
Moulai Ibrahim, 191, 192, 241
Mountains, native names for, 295
Mskala, 309
Mtouga, hostilities at, 305
— Kasbah of, 303
— return of envoy from, 293
— treatment of prisoners at, 305
Mules, sale of, 334
Muley Hassan, Viceroy of Marocco, 131, 135
Mzouda, 277
NEGRO Governor, 115
— moral sense of, 286
Notoceras canariensis, 123
Ntifa, province, 147, 368
Nurzam, 245
Nzela, 109, 110
OAK, cork, 67, 253
— evergreen, 20, 189, 253, 268
Observations for altitude of stations, 357
— requisite corrections, 358
Ocean currents, 345
Odontospermum odorum, 316
Oil mills, 190
Oleanders, 29, 120, 210
Olive, 10, 29, 31, 101, 114, 197, 204
— wild, 320
Onobrychis crista galli, 107
Ophrys apifera, 190
— lutea, 32
Opuntia vulgaris, 10, 28, 169
Orange, 10, 39, 114
Orchis latifolia, 176
— pyramidalis, 190
Orobanche, species of, 240
Osmunda regalis, 64
Ostrich feathers, 336
Ouanzerout, 195
Oued Bouregrag, 65, 67, 373
— Enfist, 191
— Ghaghaia, 192
— Kseb, or El Ghoreb, 82, 95, 100
— — affluence of, 303
— Moulouya, 35, 36, 376
— Nfys, 119, 191, 245
— Noun, 96, 245
— — course of, 276
— — source of, 264
— Oum-er-bia, 71, 72, 147, 151, 374
— — current of, 72
— Sebou, 67, 373
— Tensift, 96, 107, 114, 122, 152, 163, 191
— Tessout, 147, 367, 368
— Usbi, 281
— Za, 36
Ourika valley, 155, 168, 172, 175
— opening of, 172
— — vegetation of, 175, 176
PALMETTO, 17, 28, 42
Pan, 43
Papilio podalgyrius, 197
Partridge, red legged, 233
Peaches, 39
Peganum Harmala, 109
Periploca lævigata, 315
— græca, 316
Phaca bœtica, 55
Phelipæa lutea, 118
Phillyrea, 10, 210
Phytographia Canariensis, 406, 409, 419
Phytolacca arborea, 62
Picris albida, 117
— pilosa, 145
Pimpernel, blue, 16
Pinus halepensis, 256
Pirates, Riff, 57
Pistachia atlantica, 117
Pistorinia hispanica, DC., 113
— Salzmanniana, 113
Plantago major, 115
Platanthera diphylla, 22
Plants, climbing, 28
Pliny, on Marocco, 374, 375
Pliny, on Citrus wood, 391
Poisoning, 312, 332
Polybius, his voyage, 374
Polygala Balansæ, 165
— Webbiana, 48
Pomegranate, 10, 101, 114
Porphyry rocks, 197, 222
Portuguese buildings on the coast, 72, 73, 343
— exploration, 378
— in South Marocco, 167, 383
— maps, 379
Prickly pear, 10, 28
Prinsep, Mr. W., drawing of Great Atlas by, 155
Pseudosaharan vegetation, 109
Pulicaria longifolia, 160
Purpurariæ, vegetation of, 417
QUERCUS Ballota, 268
— coccifera, 10, 20, 189
— Ilex, 253
— lusitanica, 20, 189
— suber, 253
RABAT, 65
Ranunculus, species of, 43, 44
Ravensrock, 9, 10, 24
— view from, 10, 11
Reraya, 180, 184
— district of, 184
Reseda, species of, 291
Retam, 95, 106
Retama monosperma, 27
Rhamnus oleoides, 189
Rhaponticum acaule, 109, 242
Rhododendron ponticum, 18, 58
Rhus, species of, 320
— pentaphylla, 106
Richardson, Mr. W. H., Appendix, 485
Riff tribes, 84
— Mts. or Lesser Atlas, 2, 9, 35
Riffian families, 46
Rochemonteix, M. de, 483
Rock dwellings at Aïn Tarsil, 300
— — Mtouga, 307
Rogers, Mr. Freeman, Appendix, 468
Rohlfs, Gerhard (note), 46, 260, 385
Rosa canina, 164
— sempervirens, 41
Rubia tinctorum, 216
Rumex pulcher, 115
Rumex vesicarius, 293
Rye, 197, 200, 216
SAFFI, or Asfi, 73, 338
— view of, 73
Sagina Linnæi, 219, 231 (note), 445
Sallee, 65, 67
— pirates of, 65
Salomon ben Daoud, 150, 366
Salvia ægyptiaca, 245
— tricolor, 346
Sand hills, formation of, 325
Saxifraga Maweana, 42
Schismus calycinus, 123
Schousboë, 82
Scilla hemisphærica, 17
— maritima, 17
Scirpus Holoschænus, 115
Scorpions, 319
Sedum modestum, 177
Seksaoua, arrival at, 283
— hostilities at, 283
— rock vegetation at, 286
Sektana, plateau of, 240
Selaginella rupestris, 189
Senecio Doronicum, 45
— giganteus, 172
— (Kleinia) pteroneura, 83
Serrania de Ronda, 11, 45
Shad fish, 71
Shedma, arrival at, 101, 309
— camp at, 101
— Governor of, 310
— — poisonings by, 312
— — hospitality of, 102, 311
— Kasbah of, 104, 311
Shedma, province, 101, 110
Sheep, sacrifice of, 229
Shelluh or Shleuh, characteristics, 187, 188
— cloak, 216
— diet 203
— houses, 215
— language, 84, 91; Appendix, 478
— market, 251
— medical practice among, 209
— mountaineers, 216
— population, 187, 188
— serious demeanour, 297
— superiority, 233
— taste for ornament, 235
— villages, 179, 180
Sheshaoua, oasis of, 107, 114
Sibthorpia europea, 58
Sidi Boubikir, 127, 136, 138
Sidi Mohammed Hassanowe, 127, 138
— Moktar, 109
Sierra Morena, 18
Siss, river, 377
Sisymbrium Irio, 114
Smilax aspera, 28
— mauritanica, 28
Snake charmers, 30, 31
Snow, absence of perpetual, 291
— beds of, 201, 259, 260, 263
— storm on Great Atlas, 222
Sonchus oleraceus, 115
Souk el Ileta, 105
Sous, pass over Atlas to, 207, 226, 264
— river, 96, 301, 373, 379
— valley, 259, 264, 265
— view of, 264, 265
Spanish campaign in Marocco, 1859-1860, 52
Spartel, Cape, 5, 16, 20
— excursion to, 16
Sparteum junceum, 165
Spergula saginoides, 231
Spergularia diandra, 161
Stachys saxicola, 302
Stapelia europea, 87
Statice mucronata, 95
— ornata, 120
— sinuata, 23
Stellaria uliginosa, 219
Stipa tortilis, 109
Stork, 30
Strait of Gibraltar, comparison of sides, 58, 59
Succowia balearica, 42
Suetonius Paulinus, his expedition, 375
Sultan, body-guard of, 115
— letters of, 64, 75, 76
— orders of, 9
Suæda fruticosa, 114
TAGANAGURT, fort of, 297
Tagherot pass, 226
— height of, 227
Tagovast, 342, 379
Tamarix africana, 65
— articulata, 123
— gallica, 163
Tamashek’ language, 480
Tangier, 4, 64, 346
— climate of, 8, 63
— history of, 7
— interior of, 6
Tangier, return to, 24, 62, 345
— trade of, 8
Tapia, 104
Tarudant, 294, 341, 379, 383
— pass leading to, 294, 376, 383
Tasseremout, 159, 160, 165, 166
— fort at, 166
Tassghirt, 194
Tassilunt, camp at, 183
Tent, Alpine Club pattern, 134, 237
Tetuan, 2, 9, 39, 50
— Jew quarter, 39
— Jewish population of, 48
— start for, 25
— valley of, 37
Teucrium, species of, 286
— collinum, 106
— Polium, 106
Thevenin, Dr., 81, 87
Thuja, of the ancients, 390
Thymus Broussonneteii, 98
— maroccanus, 65
Tifinout, pass of, 226
Tilli, Professor, 291
Timbuktou, caravans from, 336
Touareggs, or Touarecks, 85, 480
Trachelium, species of, 296
Trafalgar, cape, 11
Trap, or basalt, 113
Trees, destruction of, 178
— scarcity of, 20, 296
Tres Forcas, cape, 56
Troglodytes, 301
ULEX bæticus, 47
VEGETABLES, absence of cultivated, 288
Vegetation and agriculture of low country, 27
Velez de Gomera, 56, 57
Venture de Paradis, on the Kabyle language, 479
Veronica Beccabunga, 219
Villages, ruined, 252
Vine, wild, 28, 216
Vitex Agnus-castus, 100
Volubilis, town of, Appendix, 485
WALNUT, 169, 178, 269
Washington, Admiral, 2, 384, 447
Washington, Admiral, excursion of, 168
— observations of, at Marocco, 155
— route of, 120
Water, colour of, 71
Webb, Mr. Barker, 41, 42, 44, 57
Wedding, Jewish, 337
Wheat, red-bearded, 182
White, Mr., 64
Williams, Sir W. F., 61, 347
Withania fruticosa, 101
XIPHION tingitanum, 63
ZAFFARINE ISLANDS, 57
Zaouia, 117
Zénaga, or Zanaga tribe (note), 377
— their language, 480, 483
Zizyphus lotus, 99, 106, 111, 119, 143
Zygophyllum Fontanesii, 339
LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET
Transcriber's note:
pg 22 Changed: _Plantanthera diphylla_ to: _Platanthera_
pg 28 Changed: _Genista elevata_ to: _clavata_
pg 41 Changed: by liberal expediture to: expenditure
pg 57 Added period after: destroyed by the Spaniards
pg 153 Changed: vary form the mean to: from
pg 225 Changed: sudden illlumination to: illumination
pg 255 Added period after: the general result
pg 260 Added period after: infer from his narrative
pg 310 Added period after: outbreak of hostilies
pg 331 Changed: plunged into water, to: water.
pg 332 Changed: under he protection to: the
pg 337 Changed: Wildenow to: Willdenow
pg 344 Changed: 90 F. to: 90° F.
pg 365 Added § to last cell of last row
pg 387 Changed: Lybia to: Libya
pg 408 Changed: Rhammus to: Rhamnus
pg 413 Moved: PAROLINIA from left column to right (genera) column
pg 425 Changed: Verbascum calnycium to: calycinum
pg 437 Changed: .07 to: 0.07
pg 494 Changed: Gibraltar, rock of, 60, 743 to: 347
pg 496 Changed: Plantanthera diphylla to: Platanthera
pg 496 Changed: Peganum Harmata to: Harmala
The changes suggested in the Errata have been made.
Multi-column tables without headers, that span more than one page
have been changed to single column.
Other spelling and formatting inconsistencies have been left
unchanged.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Journal of a tour in Marocco and the Great Atlas" ***
Copyright 2023 LibraryBlog. All rights reserved.