Sixteen years of an artist's life in Morocco, Spain and the Canary Islands

Front matter

MOROCCO

SIXTEEN YEARS

OF

Chapter I

SIXTEEN YEARS OF AN ARTIST'S LIFE

IN

MOROCCO, SPAIN, AND THE CANARY ISLANDS.

CHAPTER I.

Farewell to England―Trip to Gibraltar and Cadiz Proposed―The "Royal Tar" in Deshabille ― An Accommodating Stewardess ― The Artists at Sea―An Atelier on Shipboard―The Sultan of Morocco Supplies me with a Model―Change of Mind―I Resolve to Make Acquaintance with the Moors―A Peep at Gibraltar―The Silent City―Tangier from the Sea―Professional Rivalry―When Jews Meets Jews―I am Plumped Down in Morocco . . . . . . . 1

A vagabond from a baby, I left England at eighteen. I was perfectly independent, having neither master nor money. My pencil was both to me, being at the same time my strength, my comfort, and my intense delight. The month of November had come round, with its fogs, its colds, its white roads, its tarnished bricks, and its blue noses; and as nothing was to be done anywhere in the light of day, the imagination found pleasure in dwelling on the sunny places for which the Royal Tar was bound. I had seen its advertisement. Spain and Gibraltar were two of the temptations held out to those who were anxious to exchange the gloom of England, in the early winter months, for the light and sunshine of the lands washed by the Mediterranean. With such inducements to stir him up, with such prospects before him, who would not be a vagabond in November?

My resolution was quickly taken, and I lost no time in engaging a berth on board the Royal Tar. When I went on board, the decks were all washed; at any rate, they were still wet. The cabin was full of fog, and appeared cheerless and deserted, the servants and officers of the ship being all ashore, engaged doubtless in their own concerns, and making the most of their last night in England with their several friends and acquaintances. I was as yet the only solitary passenger in the ship, having come on board before the usual time. How shall I describe the oppression of that evening? Even now, after the lapse of a considerable period, I can still realize the melancholy loneliness of my position at the time. As I have already said, the dense fog had penetrated into the cabin, and hung gloomily round a flagging lamp, which had been lighted a week before, and now only served to make darkness visible. Everything was out of place, and stowed away for some necessary scrubbing, previous to the departure of the vessel. I was not able to resist the melancholy influence of the scene of disorder and gloom on which my eyes rested; ― so different from the bright visions which fancy had been painting in such vivid colours during the past few days. The reaction after the feverish excitement consequent on the resolution I had taken, and on the preparation necessary to carry it into effect, came upon me like a sudden chill, and the spirit that had buoyed me up fell at once to zero. Perplexed and disappointed, I threw myself upon a bed, and, like a petted child, fairly wept myself to sleep.

"Isn't you going to get up to breakfast, miss?" said a cockney voice.

"I'm soaking wet," I replied; "can't I go somewhere else?"

"No, miss, you can't," said the voice; "and you'd better to make yourself easy as you is; there is many that would be glad of sich a place, and even to give a few pounds extra, and make friends of the stewardess for hern."

The sun and the sea were now fairly in my berth, and we were tossing about in the British Channel. The cabin, so deserted before, now presented all the usual indications of that bustle and confusion which are unavoidable at the commencement of a long journey by sea. There was scarcely room either to sit or stand, for every inch of space that could be turned to account was occupied, and trunks, bundles, dogs, bird-cages, and children were huddled together in one mass of apparently inextricable confusion. But, with care and patience, it was not long before everything found its proper place. The trunks were stowed away; the bundles were hidden out of sight; the birdcages were hung up, or otherwise disposed of; the dogs soon, made themselves at home, and went roaming about the ship; the children rushed on deck, screaming with delight, and were not long before they had formed many new acquaintances. In a word, the celerity with which chaos was reduced to order was one of those marvels that often perplex landsmen on board a ship, the secret of which still remains to be discovered.

Being now fairly launched on our voyage, things went on, I daresay, much after the fashion of most trips of the kind. Everything, however, was so fresh and novel to me, and my imagination so disposed to paint every object in its fairest hues, that posed to paint every object in its fairest hues, that I should doubtless have been indignant with the person who had said so at the time. But so it ever is. There is perhaps no period in which Fancy is more busy, adorning the visions of hope in its richest and most varied colours, than when proceeding to visit those lands―particularly those southern lands―which are associated with so much that is grand in history and romantic in story. I was fully conscious of its influence. Everything was an incident, and the most trifling events were invested with more that their ordinary degree of interest. The porpoises appeared to leap higher, the stars to shine brighter, the phosphorescent light to be more brilliant, the passengers to be more agreeable, and even those sea odours (for everything must have its foil) not to be quite so abominable and repulsive. Ah! at that moment the future was bright as the dawn of day,

For life itself was new, And the heart promised what the fancy drew.

Among the passengers on board, my attention was particularly attracted to one individual who, in the narrow world of the ship, was, more or less, the "observed of all observers." His fine figure, Moorish features, and flowing dress singled him out his fellow-travellers, in a scene where everything was essentially and unmistakably English. As an artist, my first impulse was to add his imposing figure to the number of my sketches from life; and as soon as he was informed of my desire, he politely consented to grant me a sitting. It was indeed a bright idea for all parties, for we were just entering the Bay of Biscay, and as it happened at the time to be as calm as Lake Como, it did not promise much to interest or amuse those who were anxious to witness it in some of its grander and more restless moments. Every passenger who could leave his bed felt some interest in the proposed sketch; and all were eager in the offer of their services to rig up an atelier.

When the captain shortly after came on deck, with his hands in his pockets, his pipe in his mouth, and hist face shining like a winter apple, he was rather astonished at the unexpected evidence of our suddenly awakened zeal and activity on which his eyes rested, and he was at a loss to conceive what use we intended to make of the ropes, pieces of wood, and other odds and ends we had borrowed from one or other on board. When he was informed of our design, he testified his approval of it by at once giving me access to, and free use of, an infinitely better provided atelier than any that the most skilful even of us could have hoped to construct with such materials as we had been able to collect. To the intense disgust of the stewardess, he at once unlocked and ushered us into the State cabin, a spacious and richly furnished apartment, with luxurious ottomans, dazzling mirrors, the softest velvet, and finery of every description, the whole, in its solitary grandeur, contrasting so strongly with the comparative plainness of other parts of the ship, which was crowded to suffocation.

Our model, with his flowing robes, on being show in, seemed as highly pleased as any of the party, and the State cabin immediately became the centre of attraction to all in the ship. The general curiosity extended even to the steersman at his important post, and the attention of that functionary was not so entirely absorbed by the care requisite in the direction of the vessel, but that he ventured occasionally to look down upon us and to watch our proceedings. Our Moorish friend, however, no way abashed by the attention and curiosity of which he was the object, sat down with the composure and self-possession peculiar to his race, and with a due sense of the dignity that pertained to his office, for he had been to England on a special mission, entrusted with a present of Barb horses, rich stuffs, &c., from His Shereefian Highness the Sultan of Morocco, Protector of the Faithful, to the Sultana of England.He was a very animated sitter, and as the sketch progressed, he related many wonderful narratives of his race and country. My own curiosity was so strongly excited by all he told us, that before the sketch was finished, I had determined to extend my trip, and to make Cadiz and Gibraltar stepping-stones only to the romantic shores of Western Barbary.

Having at length arrived at Gibraltar, a locality now so well known that any description would be superfluous, we started for the opposite coast by the little courrier boat which plies between the two shores, with despatches for Her Majesty's Government in England, and with supplies for Her Majesty's troops at Gibraltar. The time from leaving Gibraltar, with its Highland regiments and bristling cannon, its British ships and English sailors, with its chandler's stores kept by Brown and Johnson, and its magazins of French millinery, and, in addition to these, its English prejudices, gossip, scandal, bustle, and life―the time, we say, from leaving all these and arriving at Tangier, the Silent City, Protected of the Lord, is so short that one is hardly prepared for a scene so entirely new in all its aspects. A new world is literally disclosed to the traveller, and as the strange pictures of a life which is as yet so foreign to all his sympathies pass before him, new and vivid sensations are awakened, and the circle of his experience is greatly enlarged.

Tangier, from the sea, looks like a City of the Dead, a vast cemetery, a Kensal Green laid bare on the slope of a hill. The houses are square white blocks, without windows or chimneys, or anything to break the monotony of the four sides. Here and there, the eye rests upon a mosque, or upon some fragments of fortification, vestiges of what, in the time of our Charles II., counted among the foreign possessions of the English crown. We had soon an opportunity of witnessing some of the more striking scenes which greet the visitor on his approach to this strange land. As we drew near to the shore, a squabble and fight took place between two vagabond Jews, who in the rivalry of the profession, had plunged into the water to carry me ashore. In their zeal to secure the prize of which they were emulous, each one for himself, the two sons of Abraham quarrelled, and lost no time in proceeding to a liberal interchange of blows and scratches. But this was not all. The hands were not their only weapons of offence. Another unruly member was called in to add its zest to the bitterness of the fray, and the achievements of the tongue afforded by far the greatest amusement to the stranger who was the object of this pretty quarrel, which seemed to have been got up for the express purpose of giving her an insight into one of the varieties of low life in Morocco. Oh! the eloquence of their mutual abuse, as the two poured out, from the abundance of the heart, curses on their respective great-grandfathers. Nor was I allowed to escape without my share of what they were so liberally bestowing upon each other. As I could not be divided between the two rivals, as one must win me and for the time wear me, the rejected suitor for the honour of carrying me ashore, gave vent to his disappointment in a volley of curses against me and my progenitors, while I was carried to the beach in the arms of his triumphant rival. But, alas, for the reputation of Jewish gallantry, how did the fellow treat me as soon as he had discharged the duty for which he considered himself engaged? Before I was aware of what he was about to do, or could anticipate the fate reserved for me, he plumped me down on my hands and face in the sand; and after thus pleasantly introducing me to the Moorish territory, he held out his hand and patiently waited for his "gratification."

The primitive aspect of everything around took me quite by surprise, and I recalled successively scenes from the Arabian Nights and from the Bible. Indeed, it seemed to me that I had gone back two thousand years, that I was in a country where civilization had stagnated for ages past, where commercial intercourse had left no stamp on the features of society, and where no innovations from Europe had yet crossed the Straits of Gibraltar to supersede those old manners and customs by which life in eastern countries is so strongly contrasted with that of more western lands. Indeed, we must go back to the times of Saxon heathendom before we can find a parallel in our annals to the state of things existing at the present day on the shores of Barbary. Although enjoying constant communication with foreigners, and only eight leagues from Europe, the people of Tangier retain the same prejudices, the same aversion to mental advancement, as have ever characterised them for ages past, and they still continue to act upon their old creed, "What was good for our fathers is good for us."

Chapter II

CHAPTER II.

What is Good for our Fathers is Good for Us―How the True Believer gets to Heaven―Elegant Figures and Female Curiosity―How the Nazarene Woman Suffers for her Faith―The Sultan's Captain of Tangier―A Motley Crowd, and Life in the Streets―Her Britannic Majesty's Diplomatic Agent―The Call to Prayer―Jew and Christian near the Mosque―The Moorish Merchant and his Wares―Travellers see Strange Things―A Patent for Superseding Soap, Water, and Towel―A Jewish Bride, and Entertainment in Honour of the Betrothed―A Discordant Concert―How they Pay the Piper―A Moorish Dance.

When I got up from the sand, on which I had been so unceremoniously plumped down, I found myself surrounded by a motley audience, a posse of lusty Riffians. Their looks were fierce, and their heads completely shaven, with the exception of the long plaited tail of hair which hung down over the shoulder, and which, as they devoutly believe, serves for the Good Angel to take them to heaven by. Their dark skins contrasted brilliantly with their white haikhs.

What appeared great balls of dirty clothes now came tumbling about me, and had it not been for the red slippers which terminated the mass, I should never have imagined the possibility of their being human creatures. The first idea suggested to my mind was that, on being disencumbered of the garments in which they were invested, the objects within must be disclosed in the form of porpoises, barrels of flesh, or any hideous thing, difficult to recognise as really women. Such, however, they were, for out of each bundle peered an eye upon me, twinkling with all the curiosity with which the sex in every land is charged. While gazing with wonder and humiliation at these monsters―at these women, if I must call them so―I suddenly felt something wet upon my face. I had undergone one of those acts of humiliation to which these people think it proper to subject those of the Christian faith. On looking up, I met the grin of a shiny, frizzly black slave, her mouth, which was on the full stretch, disclosing a matchless set of teeth. My appearance was too much for her. "A Nazarene woman, covered with little rags," she said. Nor was she altogether wrong in her description, for my gloves, collar, hat, shoes, stockings, ribbons, &c., were certainly all little rags compared with the one great garment that covers the Moorish women, or the scanty cloth that served in her almost nude state.

A very grand colossal figure now greeted me in a few words of English, which did not appear to have any particular bearing upon the surrounding circumstances. His fair face, freckled and sunburnt, and his soft blue eyes, might have been supposed to indicate an individual of European origin, were it not for the turban that he wore. His ponderous body was enveloped in a gorgeous, many-coloured dress of scarlet, green, and gold, showing beautifully through a cream-coloured semi-transparent haikh, which was carefully arranged so as to display, rather than conceal, the splendid dress beneath. This magnificently-dressed Moor was Hadj Mohammed Balga, and the office which he held was that of Captain of the Sultan's port of Tangier.

But the crowd now began to thicken, and I was completely hemmed in by turbaned Moors, bearded Jews, clamorous dogs, patient donkeys, and stately camels. I was perfectly at a loss as to the means by which I should succeed in escaping from the importunate curiosity of the motley crowd by which I was surrounded. Fortunately, at this juncture, I had the pleasure of meeting Her Britannic Majesty's diplomatic agent, who, having come to Tangier on visit to his family, had hastened down to escort me to his house. But I was not yet to be permitted to escape from the curious throng who pressed upon our steps. Their number rather increased than diminished as we proceeded on our way, and their wonder seemed rather to grow than to be satiated by the food with which they fed their eyes. It was consequently with considerable difficulty that we made our way through the narrow streets, or, as I imagined them at the time to be, back lanes, for being as yet a perfect stranger to the peculiar features of Moorish towns, I thought that Mr. D. H., in order to escape our persevering tormentors, was taking me by a short cut to his residence. I was not yet accustomed to the narrow lanes and monotonous white walls that intersect all Mohammedan towns; besides, I was bewildered by the novelty of the spectacle that met my eyes in whatever direction I turned them. With the eye of an artist, I singled out the beautiful little fountains sending forth their refreshing streams of sparkling water, and the elegant little alcoves which afforded so welcome a shelter from the oppressive heat of the noonday sun. I cannot say, however, that my ear was agreeably impressed with the sound of the language, its harsh and guttural pronunciation being anything but musical.

At this moment, my attention, ever on the alert, was attracted by a strange sound that came swelling on the air. As it seemed to proceed from above, the knowledge I had previously acquired by conversation and reading enabled me at once to apprehend what it was. Nor was I mistaken in my conjecture. It was the Mueddin, the well-known Mohammedan call to prayer. How solemnly it sounded from the minarets of the mosques all over the city, summoning the faithful to their devotions, and proclaiming in the ears of all men the unity of God, and that Mohammed is his prophet! In all Mohammedan countries, this sacred call, which no one can listen to without some degree of emotion, supersedes the use of the bells by which the Christian world is invited to the house of prayer, and which are an abomination to the true believer. The moment the Mueddin is heard, every Moor, far and near, wherever he may happen to be when the sound first strikes his ear, or however engaged at the time, throws himself prostrate on the ground, it may be in his chamber, in his shop, in the bazaar, in the street, or on the housetop; it may be when alone, or when engaged in conversation with his friends and family; it matters not how or where engaged, at the solemn summons every face is instantaneously turned to the east, the head is bowed to the dust, and the incense of prayer is offered to the one God.

At the corner of one of the mosques, was a poor half-naked maniac, or "Santo", shrieking most dolefully for his wife, who, I was informed, had died some years previously of cholera. On seeing us approach, the poor creature ran away and hid himself from our sight, again giving utterance to his hideous howl. Often has my rest been disturbed by his insane raving, and I have started up in the dead of night, awakened by his melancholy wailing cry, "Yanassee! ah, Yanassee!"

I had already become acquainted with much that was novel and peculiar in the customs of Mohammedan countries, and that even before I had reached the house beneath whose hospitable roof I was to find rest after the fatigues of my long voyage. So different, indeed, is everything that surrounds the stranger from all the modes of life to which he has previously been accustomed in England, or in any part of Europe, even in those regions which are nearest to the coast of Barbary, that it only requires one to open his eyes and to be ordinarily observant, to acquire much interesting knowledge, and much agreeable food for the future reflection. I was yet to learn more before I could be said to have fairly terminated my journey.

As we passed the mosque, I observed that the Jewish porters who were carrying my luggage put it all down in the road as soon as they came near its sacred precincts, and proceed to take off their slippers, this being one of the indignities to which they are subjected on every occasion when the path they are pursuing brings them near a Moorish temple. Although the door of the sacred edifice was open, my companion counselled me not to stop before it, or exhibit any outward signs of my very natural curiosity, as the Moors were more than usually jealous of any observation on the part of the Christians, and were unnecessarily prompt in taking offence if they thought their proceedings were too narrowly watched. Indeed, it appears that they are altogether more exclusive than their brethren in any part of the east, and under the influence of their narrow-minded bigotry will not suffer any Christian to enter their mosques, the slightest infraction of their will in this respect being punished with the severest penalties.

I obtained a glimpse, however, as I passed, of the large court, or body, of the building, and observed that it shone brilliantly with the many- coloured mosaics of the glazed and painted tiles with which it was paved. In the midst was a fountain at which some Moors were performing their ablutions, while others were squatted about, bowing their heads to the "Holy Caaba."

But in Morocco, if the sight is entranced with ever recurring novelties and with much that is dazzling and beautiful, the other senses are compelled, in obedience apparently to the law of compensation, to endure much that is offensive beyond all expression, for while the ear is frequently startled by the most hideous and appalling sounds, the sense of smell is overwhelmed by indescribably abominable odours, that certainly do not come from Araby the Blest. But use, we all know, is second nature, and the inhabitants have not only learnt to endure them with patience, but would probably lament their absence, if by any extraordinary interruption to the usual course of things their olfactory nerves were deprived of their usual stimulant at the seasonable time. Ever Europeans must learn to endure what cannot be cured, and if they can never become reconciled to these odours, nor, like the natives, associate them with their reminiscences of the past, they at least learn, in the language of the poet, to "suffer and be still."

But to return from this digression. When prayer is over, the Moor resumes his usual occupation; he unlocks his box in the wall―for such is his shop―and jumps in among his merchandize, sits cross-legged in the midst of the articles in which he deals, offers them for sale, and endeavours to attract customers. His stock cannot be described, in honest truth, as very tempting in its nature. It probably consists of heaps of musty raisins, coarse sugar plentifully mingled with flies, stale leathery figs, snuff, and several other odds and ends, mixed up together without any attempt at regularity or order. There are probably also several large jars of rancid butter, the presence of which is announced by the odour with which it greets the approaching passenger, even before he has come within sight of the shop. But the article is popular, notwithstanding, or perhaps because of, its staleness, and bears many visible signs of the estimation in which it is held, and the demand which it has excited, in the numerous mould-like marks of the merchant's fingers intersecting it in all directions, and duly increasing as his patrons become more numerous.

It is an old saying, that travellers see strange things, and those that only open their eyes may witness not only many novelties,but also the novel uses to which familiar things may be applied. A carroty cat, for example, sits at the merchant's side, and appears to be in the enjoyment of that state of perfectly satisfied repose which can neither be called sleeping nor waking, and which individuals of the feline tribe appear to appreciate so much. This cat answers the purpose of soap, water, and towel to the Moor, who carefully wipes his hands on her back between each dispensation of butter to his waiting customers. He is not quite so successful in a labour which he undertakes himself, that, namely, of endeavouring, with a wand which he waves about incessantly, to keep of the flies that are fascinated in countless numbers by the sweets of which he disposes. Some dead rats may also be lying about; and probably some other animals, in the last stage of existence, too weak even to make their way across the street, may be drawing their last breath in the establishment over which he presides.

But there are now fresh objects in the street, to which our observation must in due course be turned. A drove of camels, under the care of a half naked Arab driver, is approaching in one direction, sniffing the air, as they come on, with a solemn mixture of patient stupidity and apparent pride, and gracefully arching their long necks over you as they proceed on their way. Disentangling yourself with some difficulty from them, you find yourself in an instant in another predicament, for a sudden roaring noise assails your ears, warning you to move on, and before you can step aside, you are nearly run down by two turbaned porters carrying a crushing load which is supported between them on a long pole.

My attention was next attracted to a procession which happened, fortunately, while I had an opportunity of seeing it, to be coming along the narrow street; and I heard the shrill, tremulous yelling with which the Hebrew women conduct a bride to the house of her betrothed. The latter appeared to be as rigid as a corpse, as, amid the clashing of cymbals and the shouts of her friends, she was borne along to her destination. In conformity with the requirements of her religion, her eyes were closed, and her face was so highly painted with white and scarlet as entirely to outrage the modesty of nature. So utterly inanimate and motionless did she remain during her progress through the crowd that she might have been readily taken for one of the Spanish painted wooden figures of Montañes. Otherwise, she was one mass of expensive glitter and display. Her eyes, too, although shut, appeared unnaturally large and distended, from the custom of staining them copiously with al cohol. Her hair was hidden by a magnificent tiara of pearls and emeralds, and by a rich and many-coloured silk handkerchief. Large hoops of gold, adorned with precious stones, formed a very remarkable ornament for the ear, although they can scarcely be denominated ear-rings, for they are larger than bracelets, being about six inches in diameter, and as thick as the little finger. These, partially supported by fine gold chains attached to the head-dress, are passed through the fleshy part of the ear, leaving only a thin shred of flesh round the gold. A star of jewels, in front of each, is so disposed as to appear in all its lustre on the side next to the face. From her neck is suspended a profusion of antique chains and pendants of pearls and emeralds, of extraordinary size, but roughly cut and polished. The bodice she wears is composed of cloth of gold, gorgeous in appearance, and disposed about her person in what we should term a voluptuously loose manner, the skirt appended to it being of brilliant scarlet cloth, richly braided with gold. Her naked ankles were weighed down by ponderous and roughly chased anklets, and a clumsy pair of gold embroidered scarlet slippers, of Morocco leather, covered the fore part of her feet.

Such is a faithful picture of this automaton beauty, and of her rich, but not very graceful, toilet, as amid the lurid blaze of the torches, and the frantic yells and shouts of the rabble collected about her, she was conveyed to the habitation of her future husband. We followed her to the door; and having then taken a last look of this half-animated bride, we turned aside towards a neighbouring house, in which we expected to have the pleasure of seeing the pretty wife of the Hebrew interpreter to the British Mission.