Raisuli — I

RAISULI. I. MULAI AHMED BEN MOHAMMED ER-RAISTJLI is to- day a man of about fifty years of age. He is by birth sprung from one of the most aristocratic families in Morocco, and is a Shereef, or direct descendant of the Prophet, through Mulai Idris, who founded the Mohammedan Empire of Morocco, and was the first sovereign of the Idrisite Dynasty. The children of Mulai Idris were established in various parts of the country, and it is from Mulai Abd es-Salam, whose tomb in the Beni Aros tribe is a place of great sanctity, that the famous brigand is directly descended — his family, and he himself, still holding a share in the lands, the rights and the privileges which were enjoyed by their renowned ancestor. A branch of the family settled in Tetuan, where a fine mosque forms a mausoleum for his more recent ancestors, and is venerated as a place of pilgrimage. Possibly it was this holy ancestry that turned Raisuli from the paths of virtue, for after having received an excellent education in religion and religious law at Tetuan, he took to the adventurous, lucrative, and in Morocco by no means despised, profession of a cattle robber. It is a risky business, and requires courage. You may just as likely be shot yourself as shoot any one else ; but prestige tells in favour of the head of the band, and a reign of terror of the young Raisuli ensued. He became celebrated. He was a youth of great courage, of the most prepossessing looks, and he and his followers earned money easily and fast — and spent it still faster. But cattle robberies led to other crimes. Murders followed, and it must be confessed that Raisuli' s hands are none too clean in that respect ; but murder in Morocco cannot be classed with murder in England. Life is cheap, and the dead are soon forgotten. By nature he was, and is, cruel, and the profession he had adopted gave him unlimited scope to exhibit his cruelty. On one occasion a Shereef who had married his sister proposed, according to Moslem custom, to take a second wife. Raisuli's sister, enraged, fled to her brother and complained. Nothing occurred till the night of the new marriage, when at the height of the festivities Raisuli and his men entered his brother-in-law's house and put to death the young bride and her mother. At length his acts became insupportable. The whole country round lived in terror of his raids. The late Sultan ordered his arrest. His greatest friend betrayed him ; he was seized, and sent to prison in the dreaded dungeons of Mogador. When, in 1903, I was Raisuli's prisoner at Zinat, he narrated more than once to me the history of those four or five years spent in prison. He * showed me the marks of the chains on his ankles, wrists, and neck ; he told me of the filth and the cold ; of the introduction of a file in a loaf of bread ; of five months' patient work at night ; and of a delayed flight. He escaped, but for a very few hours. He did not know his way about the town, and he had forgotten that the chains would almost prevent his walking. He entered a street that had no outlet, and was recaptured. Fresh chains were heaped upon him, and it was not till two years later that he was released on the petition of Haj Mohammed Torres, the Sultan's representative at Tangier. He came back to his home, meaning to live a quiet and peaceful life, but he found that his friend who had betrayed him had become Governor of Tangier, and confiscated all his property. He applied for its return, but could not obtain it. He threatened, but they laughed at him — and then he took to his old profession and became a brigand. It was at this period that I first met him. I was camping on a shooting expedition near Arzeila, when he and his men paid me a visit and spent the night at my camp. I confess that his personality was almost fascinating. Tall, remarkably handsome, with the whitest of skins, a short dark beard and moustache, and black eyes, with profile Greek rather than Semitic, and eyebrows that formed a straight line across his forehead, Mulai Ahmed er-Raisuli was a typical and ideal bandit. His manner was quiet, his voice soft and low, and his expression particularly sad. He smiled sometimes, but seldom, and even though I knew him much better later on, I never heard him laugh. With his followers he was cold and haughty, and they treated him with all the respect due to his birth. When next I saw him I was his prisoner at his stronghold at Zinat, situated about twelve miles from Tangier — in June 1903. He had altered a littta His face had filled out, the mouth had become harder and a little more cruel, but he was still remarkably handsome. He had not changed for the better. Only a few months before my capture he had sold one of his prisoners to an enemy for $1500, and stood by to see the pur- chaser cut the victim's throat. As long as he had restricted his energies to cattle-lifting and to attacks upon natives no one paid very serious attention to him, though the Maghzen were trying to encompass his capture. On 16th June 1903 the Shereefian troops attacked and burnt Zinat ; the same afternoon I was captured. Hearing that a battle had taken place at that spot, situated some eight or nine miles away, I rode out toward the middle of the day in that direction, accompanied by my native groom, whose parents lived at Zinat, and who was most anxious as to the safety of his relations. Already the alarm had spread to the neighbouring villages, and we found the country round entirely deserted, the population having fled to the mountains of Anjera with all their cattle and as much of their goods as they could carry away. Although the attack of the Government troops had been made with the object of capturing Raisuli, the native cavalry had wandered far afield after loot, and a considerable number of cattle, &c., had been carried off from villages innocent of any rebellious intentions, and in no way accessories to Raisuli' s depredations. I found it difficult on this account to obtain any accurate information of what had occurred, and a desire to do so, coupled with my groom's anxiety, persuaded me to approach nearer than was perhaps advisable to the scene of the morning's action. Skirting the stony hill on which Zinat is situated, I entered the plain, crossed by small gulleys, that lies to the south of the villages, and until within two miles of the place met with no incident worth recording. The whole country was absolutely deserted. Not a single person, not a head of cattle, was to be seen. It was when we were crossing this plain that suddenly a volley was fired at us from men concealed in the brushwood and rocks of a small hill near by. The range was a long one, and though we could hear the bullets whizzing over our heads, I do not believe that any passed us very closely. Setting spurs to our horses, we cantered away out of range, and drew rein on an elevation in the plain in the midst of a field of corn. Turning to see what was happening, I perceived three or four natives a considerable distance away, who had taken off their cloaks and turbans, and were waving to me to return. This waving of turbans is always in Morocco a sign of " aman " or safety, and I therefore waited for the men, who were moving quickly in our direction. Two alone approached us, both well known to me ; and having arrived at the spot where we were stationed, they apologised profusely for the mistake of their men in having fired, and begged me to return with them to Zinat to discuss the situation there. They were Anjera men from the neighbouring Roman hills, who had not been present at the battle, but who had come down to Zinat, as the irregular cavalry had carried off a considerable number of their cattle. They stated that they were desirous of knowing the intentions of the Moorish Government with regard to their tribe. If, they said, it was the Government's intention to attack them, they were ready to resist; but if the Moorish forces had been ordered merely to capture Raisuli and had looted their property without authority, they demanded the return of their cattle — a very reasonable demand. They added that they were afraid to proceed to Tangier to interview the authorities for fear of capture and imprisonment there, and asked me accordingly to take their message to the native officials, as on such occasions I had often done before. Under a promise of safety I proceeded with them in the direction of Zinat, having agreed that I should go to a spot near the hills where three or four of the headmen of the tribe were to meet me. It was when proceeding in that direction that I was captured. We were crossing a small gully, thick with crimson-blossomed oleanders, when suddenly I discovered that I had fallen into an ambush. Flight was impossible, and as I was unarmed, resistance was out of the question. From every side sprung out tribesmen, and in a second or two I was a prisoner, surrounded by thirty or forty men, one and all armed with European rifles. I received no rough treatment at their hands, but was told that I was their prisoner and must proceed to Zinat. On arrival at the woods which surround the several villages which lie scattered on the Zinat hills, messengers were sent to inform Raisuli of my capture, and in a short time I was taken to him. He was seated under some olive-trees in a little gully, surrounded by his men and by the headmen of the neighbouring tribes, who had collected on learning what had taken place. Raisuli received., me pleasantly enough. He was still a young man of handsome appearance, refined in feature and manner, and with a pleasant voice. He was dressed in the costume of the mountain tribes, a short brown cloak covering his white linen k clothes and reaching only to the knees, with a turban of dark-blue cloth. His legs were bare, and he wore the usual yellow slippers of the country. After a short talk with Raisuli, who narrated to me all that had taken place, he led me to what remained of his house, the greater part of which had been burned by the troops. Up to this time I had nothing to complain of in the attitude of the tribesmen, but a great number had collected in the vicinity, all anxious to catch a glimpse of the Christian captive, and not a few inclined to wreak summary vengeance on me for the devastation the Government troops had committed in the place. There was a good deal of hooting and cursing, but Raisuli's influence was sufficient for him to be able to hurry me through the crowd, now very threatening, and his own followers closed round me and guarded me from the mountaineers. It was an unpleasant moment, for I soon perceived that no authority existed over this collection of tribesmen, who numbered at this time perhaps 2000 — though by nightfall this number was probably doubled, — and that there would be no possibility of protection did they proceed to extremes. It was with no little relief that I saw the door of a small room in the remaining portion of Raisuli's house opened, through which I was pushed in. A moment later it was closed again, but it seemed as though the crowd without would break it down. But Raisuli and his men, and a score of personal friends amongst the tribesmen, formed up against the doorway outside, and were able to dissuade the rabble from their intention of dragging me out. The room in which I found myself was very dark, light being admitted only by one small window near the roof, and it was some time before my eyes became accustomed to the gloom. When I was able to see more clearly, the first object that attracted my eyes was a body lying in the middle of the room. It was the corpse of a man who had been killed there in the morning by the troops, and formed a ghastly spectacle. Stripped of all clothing and shockingly mutilated, the body lay with extended arms. The head had been roughly hacked off, and the floor all round was swimming in blood. The soldiers had carried off the head in triumph as a trophy of war, and they had wiped their gory fingers on the white- washed walls, leaving bloodstains everywhere. However, I was not to suffer the company of the corpse for long, for half a dozen men came in, washed the body, sewed it up in its winding-sheet, and carried it away for burial ; and a little later the floor was washed down, though no attempt was made to move the bloody finger-marks from the wall. Here I remained alone for some hours, and it was certainly an anxious time. I reviewed the situation quietly, and came to the conclusion that, in spite of the danger which I knew existed, I had much in my favour. The fact that the language of the people was almost the same to me as my own tongue was a great assistance, and amongst these mountain tribes I have a large number of personal friends, who, I believed, and rightly, would protect me as far as they were able. Unfortunately, few of my influential acquaintances amongst the mountaineers had arrived, though to my joy I learned, from the conversation of the guards outside the door, that they were expected during the coming night. I decided meanwhile to pretend absolute ignorance of any danger, and to talk of my condition as only one of a series of adventures that I have undergone in Morocco and elsewhere. At sundown Raisuli and some of his men brought me food, and I had a long conversation with them. Raisuli was polite, and made no secret that he intended to make use of me, though he had not yet decided in what way. He, however, kindly informed me that, should the attack of the troops be renewed, I should be immediately killed. His career, he said, was practically finished, and his sole desire was to cause the Moorish Government as much trouble and humiliation as possible, and he argued that there would be no easier way to do this than by causing my death. However, he promised me, at the same time, that provided no fresh attack was made upon the place, he would do his best to protect me. I was allowed to com- municate with the British Legation, but was not aware till later that this letter never reached its destination, though the following morning I was in direct communication with His Majesty's Minister, and throughout my captivity no difficulties were put in my way in corresponding with the British Legation. During the night a large contingent of the Anjera tribe arrived, amongst them several influential men on whose friendship I felt I might implicitly rely ; and as a matter of fact I owe my release, and probably my life, largely to these men. There is no need to give the details of the nine days that I spent at Zinat, sufficient to say that I suffered very considerable hardship. Though never actually roughly handled, except for a few insult- ing blows with slippers, &c., my discomforts were extreme. During those nine days I was never able to wash ; I never took my clothes off, with the result that I was smothered with vermin. Once I went for thirty-six hours without any food, for none was procurable, as the village had been burnt, and during the whole time my life was threatened. My friends did what they could for me, but it was little they could do. There must have been some 4000 tribesmen present, and they obeyed no one, and no one had any authority over them. It was a trying time, but my only chance lay in pretending to place implicit confidence in them, and thus gain time while the negotiations for my release proceeded. No words of praise are sufficient for the great tact displayed by Sir Arthur Nicolson, the British Minister, in conducting these negotiations. From the very beginning he realised the difficulties of success, and throughout, in every dealing that he had with the tribesmen, he showed the greatest tact and skill. He from the very commencement warned the Moorish Government not to take any steps to treat with the mountaineers, and conducted the entire proceedings himself, Mulai Ahmed, the young Shereef of Wazzan, being the means of communication between the British Government and the tribesmen. These negotiations were doubly difficult owing to the fact that the mountaineers had no recognised chiefs, and that many tribes were concerned. Yet in such a manner were the negotiations conducted, that throughout the wiiole proceedings the ignorant and fanatical tribesmen placed entire confidence in the Minister's word, and though delays occurred, as they always do in Morocco, there was never a serious hitch. The first demand made to me for my release was the removal of all Englishmen from the Sultan's Court. I naturally treated this as preposterous, and persuaded the tribesmen that it was mere folly to mention it. This was followed by other equally impossible conditions, which were likewise abandoned ; and by the time that the British Legation was in communication with the tribesmen they had lessened their demands to the release of a certain number of tribal prisoners confined in the prisons of Tangier and Laraiche. At no time was a demand made for a ransom in money, and in this my capture differed entirely from those of Mr Perdicaris and Kaid Maclean, which took place later. I owe this immunity from a pecuniary ransom to an admirable trait in the character of these wild mountain tribesmen. My country-house at Tangier was situated about two and a half miles from the town, on the sea-coast, on the main track that passes between the An j era tribe and Tangier. Just beyond my grounds, on the town side, is a tidal river, which then and now possesses no bridge, but it is ford- able at low tide. Often the tribes-people found the tide too high to cross, and were obliged to wait long weary hours, in winter at times in darkness and rain. A large number were women and young girls carrying loads of charcoal to market. I had always made it a rule to give shelter to all such as asked for it, and had built a room or two for this purpose, and in winter-time it was seldom that some of the benighted peasants were not spending the night there. When it was cold and wet they had a fire, and as often as not a little supper. A very short time after my capture a proposal was made from Tangier that a very considerable sum of money should be paid for my immediate release. This was discussed by the tribesmen and refused. They decided that in the case of one who had shown such hospitality to their women and children, and often to themselves, there must be no question of money — and there was none. There was one hitch which threatened to break down our negotiations, and which caused some delay to my release. It had been agreed that twelve prisoners from the tribesmen, confined in various Moorish Government prisons, were to be released in exchange for myself ; but after a very numerously-attended meeting, at which a large number of fresh mountaineers arrived, a demand was made for the release of over fifty. The British Legation was notified of this, and very rightly objected to this sudden and very large addition. Sir Arthur Nicolson wrote me to this effect. Before, however, making known the contents of his letter, I obtained the names of all the fifty tribesmen whose release was demanded, and sent the list to Tangier, pretending that it was to be submitted to the authorities, in order that in the case of its acceptance, orders for the release of the men might be given. Once this letter well on its way, I made known to the tribesmen that on no account more than the original twelve prisoners would be released. At first they tried persuasion, and then threats — but I felt sure of my position. " You propose," I said, " to kill me. Possibly you will do so, but you have kindly given me a list of all your relations who are in the Moorish prison — some fifty-six in all, I think. This list is now in Tangier. You will have the satisfaction of killing me, but remember this — on fifty-six consecutive days one of your sons or brothers or nephews will be executed — one each morning ; and more — their bodies will be burnt and the ashes scattered to the wind. You will see the smoke from here " — for Tangier was visible from where we were. Now, the Moors believe in a corporeal resurrection, and the burning of a body means the depriving of the soul of resurrection. It was a splendid bluff, and I felt the greatest delight in using it. I was there alone, seated in the centre of a great circle of the tribesmen, who swore and cursed and threatened ; but to no avail. I even explained that it was a matter of no importance in the Christian religion what became of one body — and pointed out the consequent loss of fifty-six good Moslem souls, deprived of going to heaven. I was successful. The tribesmen returned to their original demand. In all my dealings with the Moors I have found this, that the intelligent European, provided he has a complete and absolute knowledge of the language, holds a very distinct advantage over the Moor. He has, in fact, two advantages — hereditary training of thought, and education. The Moor is generally, by his environment and isolation, a slow thinker, and in the many difficult situations in which I at times found myself I have always had confidence in my own mental superiority over the average native. I have been able to turn threats into ridicule, or to raise a laugh, or to persuade by the mere superiority of the power of thinking and of giving utterance to one's thoughts. The Moor is very susceptible to sarcasm and ridicule, and often I have turned what looked like becoming a stormy incident into the pleasantest of channels. I have, almost without exception, carried no arms, which are often more a source of danger than of security. The only time that I left my quarters at Zinat for more than a few minutes together was on one occasion, a few days after my arrival, when I was taken down to a gully below the village to be shown the corpse of a Moorish cavalry soldier who had been killed during the engagement. In revenge for the beheading of the Zinat man who had been killed, the tribesmen had mutilated the soldier's body. It was a ghastly sight. The summer heat had already caused the corpse to discolour and swell. An apple had been stuck in the man's mouth, and both his eyes had been gouged out. The naked body was shockingly mutilated, and the finger-tips had been cut off, to be worn, the tribesmen told me, as charms by their women. The hands were pegged to the ground by sticks driven through the palms, about a yard in length, bearing little flags. A wreath of wild flowers was twined round the miserable man's head, and the village dogs had already gnawed away a portion of the flesh of one of the legs. I was jokingly informed that that was probably what I should look like during the course of the next few days. During the entire nine days that I was at Zinat I was no doubt always in danger, and certainly always in great discomfort ; but I had used every opportunity to bring the friendly tribe of Anjera over to my side, and on the night of the ninth day my friends rose nobly to the occasion. They surrounded Raisuli's house and village with perhaps a thousand men, all armed and prepared, and demanded that I should be handed over to them, threatening that, if this were not immediately carried out, they would shoot or arrest Raisuli. It was a little coup-d'etat, and it was successful. In the middle of the night I was hustled out of the small room which I shared with a dozen guards, placed on the back of a mule, and carried off into the Anjera mountains by my friends of that tribe. For six hours we proceeded through mountain passes and thick brushwood, arriving soon after sunrise at the village of Sheikh Duas, one of the most influential of the Anjera tribesmen. It was a journey I will never forget — the darkness of the moonless night, the rough mountain tracks, the silence of the hundreds of armed men who accompanied me, and the intense relief that, even if my captivity was long protracted, I was amongst men who would, at any rate, protect my life. I was tired and weak. Nine days of constant strain, in great heat, on a diet of inferior dry bread and water, with the necessity the whole time of pretending rather to enjoy the situation than otherwise, had worn me out. But from the friendly tribe of Anjera I received nothing but kindness — every word, every act of theirs was cheering and thoughtful ; and though life among them was rough enough in its way, I owe them a debt of gratitude that it will be difficult ever to repay. I remained twelve days at Sheikh Duas's village in the Anjera mountains, and throughout that period I never suffered an indignity or an insult from him or his people. A little room in his house was put at my disposal, and infinite pains were taken to render it clean and habitable. The best of such food as was procurable was given me — milk and cream-cheese, and a rough porridge of sour milk and millet. His followers — for Duas is not above being a cattle robber on a large scale — helped me to pass my time pleasantly enough, and with them I explored the neighbouring mountains, and sat in the shade of the fruit trees of their little gardens listening to their local musicians or watching the ungraceful movements of their dancing-girls. I made friends there whose friendship I shall always value. I was treated as one of the tribe. I wore their dress, shaved my head, and conformed to all their customs ; but above and beyond all, my anxiety was at an end — I knew that I was out of grave danger. Meanwhile the British Minister, ably assisted by the Shereef of Wazzan, was carrying on the negotiations. Although I was now amongst friends, these negotiations were delicate and difficult, for the Anjera tribe had given their word to the other tribes concerned not to release me until their prisoners were set free, and these other tribes were constantly desirous of changing their conditions, and, owing to the distances which separated them, this necessarily meant delay. The very fact that I was now some twenty-seven miles — a day's journey — from Tangier protracted the negotiations. Several times I seemed on the point of release, but some small hitch, unimportant, it is true, would arise and a delay occur. Except for this, time passed pleasantly; the scenery was delightful, and although it was the middle of summer the air was cool at this altitude. Little streams of water ran in every direction, and I was able to bathe and be clean once more. To all intents and purposes I was free to go where I pleased, and though always accompanied by guards, so thoughtful and kind were they that one forgot that they were there to prevent my escape, and we all became the best of friends. Meanwhile the Shereef of Wazzan spared himself no trouble. No sun was too hot for him to travel, no journey too tiring for him to undertake. He attended the tribal meetings and made known to the headman the British Minister's intentions with regard to the tribal prisoners, orders for whose release had meanwhile been received from the Sultan. His Majesty's readiness to comply with Sir Arthur Nicolson's request was deserving of all praise, for it must be remembered that the action of the rebels throughout was intended to humiliate the Sultan and his Government. What rendered the situation during my captivity, especially during the first part of it, doubly insecure was the fact that the tribes were in active communication with the Pretender to the Moorish Throne — the leader of the rebellion in the Rif, — and it was proposed over and over again to send me to him as a useful hostage ; and, had it not been for my friendship with the An j era tribe — a friendship of long standing— I have no doubt this proposal would have been carried out. On Saturday, 4th July, a large tribal meeting was held near Sheikh Duas's village, and during the usual wrangling which occurred on these occasions the Shereef of Wazzan arrived, having travelled the twenty-seven miles from Tangier that day, in spite of the heat of the July sun. His opportune presence settled my fate, and the negotiations were brought to a conclusion, not without considerable opposition. The following day a large contingent of tribesmen, the Shereef, and I set out for Tangier, spending the night some twelve miles from that place. Even here a last attempt was made — an attempt that nearly led to bloodshed — to prevent my release, but happily unsuccessfully. The next morning we moved down towards my own house, which stands alone, some two and a half miles from the town. In a ruined fort a quarter of a mile from my villa a halt was made, and messengers were despatched to town with letters to the British Minister to release the tribal prisoners, who for the last week or so had been comfortably housed in the basement of the British Consulate, having been brought up from Laraiche in specially-chartered steamers. Within an hour we saw the sixteen prisoners arriving, and very shortly afterwards they were being welcomed by their friends. Lord Cranley, Mr Wyldbore-Smith, Mr Kirby Green, and Mr Carleton accompanied the prisoners on behalf of the British Legation, but no formal exchange took place. The moment the prisoners arrived I was free to depart, though the many adieux that I had to make with my mountain friends took some little time. We parted on the best of terms, and, wild and savage as the two hundred tribesmen looked, I could not but feel how great a debt of gratitude I owed them for having released me from the dangers and discomforts of my first days of captivity. For a year after this adventure R-aisuli remained tolerably quiet, but the following spring he carried out a coup even more daring. He surrounded the villa of Mr Perdicaris at night, and carried off both the proprietor and his son-in-law. The American Government sent a fleet to Tangier, and the whole world watched the ensuing negotiations. Mr Perdicaris and Mr Varley were restored to liberty ; but at what a price ! Raisuli demanded and obtained from the Sultan the following terms. That he should be appointed the Governor of all the districts in the neighbourhood of Tangier ; that the existing Governor — his former friend, who had betrayed him — should be deposed ; a ransom of $70,000, the imprisonment of all his enemies, and the release from prison of all his friends — and other concessions of less importance. The Sultan surrendered, and the terms were carried out. Raisuli found himself all-powerful — a hero in the eyes of the Moors, a menace in those of Europe. His first acts were good. He put down the effervescence which Bou Hamara's rebellion had caused in the neighbourhood, and he opened the roads to caravan traffic, and since he was made Governor not a single caravan had been robbed within the limits of his jurisdiction. He brought about, in fact, a period of greater security than had existed during the previous year or two — but a security that depended upon Raisuli was naturally a doubtful one. As his influence increased he became a despot. He squeezed the people under him, and extorted money from even the very poorest of the poor. The Maghzen lived in terror of him, and let him know it, with the result that he ignored their orders and commands, and even the treaties with Europe. He threatened and blackmailed even the Maghzen authorities, who openly acknowledged then- incapacity to deal with him, and he became at the same time the protector and the scourge of Tangier and the surrounding districts. He enforced his authority up to the very gates of the town, and his armed followers even entered and dragged out of prison men who were not in his jurisdiction. His representatives administered justice (!) in the market-place, and beat people to death within a few yards of the French and German Legations. In 1906 Raisuli had reached the zenith of his power. At Zinat it was sufficient to tell a man that he was a prisoner, and he would never attempt to escape. There was no need to lock him up — he knew that his master's arm was long enough to reach him wherever he fled to, — and the strange sight of dozens of prisoners at liberty could be seen there on any day. Raisuli showed all the qualities required by a strong Governor in Morocco, but unfortunately he overdid it. For him there existed no treaties. His and his representatives' actions at this period are well known. The flogging of protected natives, the cutting off of the electric light, the blackmailing of Europeans, the destruction of property — a long list of acts of unbearable tyranny. At length the representatives of the European Powers could endure it no longer. They addressed a collective Note to the Moorish Minister of Foreign Affairs at Fez, demanding that an end be made to the impossible state of affairs existing in the Tangier districts. It was almost an ultimatum, for the bay was full of the warships of France and Spain, present to protect European interests until the introduction of the new police. The Sultan and his viziers could not misunderstand the purport of this Note. The Minister of War was ordered to proceed to Tangier with all available forces. Early in January 1907 the troops that had arrived from Fez were camped not many miles from Raisuli's stronghold, waiting for orders to attack. News was brought to me that this attack would take place two days later, on Saturday, 6th January; and it was still dark when that morning, at a very early hour, I left Tangier on horseback with three trusted Moors to see what I could of it. I had clothed myself in the flowing dress of a trooper of Moorish irregular cavalry, as I knew that orders had been issued to prevent Europeans approaching the spot, and also so as to be able to move about the scene of action without attracting notice. Before we had emerged into the open country we had passed no less than six outposts of some twenty-five men each, for the Maghzen authorities had been taking great precautions to protect the town ; but even the clattering of our horses' shoes upon the paved roads failed to wake a single man from the deep slumber in which they were lying inside their tents. At dawn we were a good many miles away, but we had time to spare, and rode slowly, realising that a long day lay before us ; and it was seven o'clock before, from the point of a low hill, the camp of the Shereefian troops was visible in the plain below us. A mile to our left was the famous hill of Zinat, with its rocky crests and precipices, and its steep lower slopes stretching down to the plain, at places dotted with olive groves. Set in the midst of this background stood Raisuli's stronghold, a large rambling building, half-fort, half-house, with windows dotted irregu- larly about its front, and here and there a battle- mented tower rising above the rest of the roof, a strong building in a very strong position. Away behind Zinat and in front of us rose the higher peaks of the Beni Msaour Mountains, range beyond range, until, bounding the eastern horizon, they were overtopped by the snow-clad summits of Beni Hassan. There were no signs of the coming struggle at that moment. Cattle were feeding near the little villages on the plain, and thin white smoke, hanging heavily in the bright air, issued from the thatched roofs and tents of the plains-people as they cooked their breakfasts. In the Shereefian camp there was some movement, and near Raisuli's stronghold his followers could be seen strolling about, while the smoking chimneys of his house bespoke the fact that they too were preparing their breakfasts. It was nine o'clock before the scene changed. Clear in the still air a bugle rang out in the camp. They must have heard it away at Zinat, for suddenly from the summit of the rocks above Raisuli's fortress a long thin column of white smoke arose, then another and another, and then from peak to peak, as far as the eye could reach, the fires were answered. The mountaineers were signalling to one another that the great battle was imminent. Down in the camp below us the infantry were " falling in " and the cavalrymen mounting their horses, and it was only a few minutes later when amongst the beating of drums and the blowing of bugles, the neighing of horses and the fluttering of coloured banners and flags, the Shereefian troops marched out on to the plain. A hoarse shout arose from every throat, " Ah ! salih en- Nebi, Rasoul Allah ! " an invocation to the Prophet, repeated again and again, and answered by a far-away and fainter cry of the same words from the fortress and rocks of Zinat. Once all the troops are out on the plain they are drawn up in formation for the attack. On the right were the artillery, two field-guns, and a couple of Maxims, carried by mules. Near them, amidst a panoply of banners, rode the Commander-in-Chief and his staff, a group of a hundred or so persons well mounted and gaily dressed, with their bright saddles of every shade of coloured cloth and silk adding to a scene already brilliantly picturesque. In the centre were some 800 infantry with a strong support of tribal cavalry, while on the left a somewhat smaller force formed the flank. The contingent of loyal mountaineers in their short black cloaks could be seen already scaling some low hills away on the extreme right. Then slowly the whole army advances. It was a moment of thrilling excitement. From the rocky hill where I had taken up my point of vantage the whole scene was passing at my very feet. On my left the fortress and rocks ; on my right the slowly advancing forces — the left flank within a hundred yards or so of where I stood. At Zinat there was not a sign of life, though with my glasses I could see the glint of rifle-barrels in the em- brasures of the house, and now and then amongst the precipices and rocks above it. The troops are within 1200 yards now, and in the open, but still advancing slowly, for the most part in close formation, and offering even at that range — a long one for the Moors, who are proverbial bad shots — an excellent target. The sunlit air is so still that every little sound rises unbroken from the plain below : a word of command here, a bugle-call there. Then suddenly the firing opens from Zinat — the quick nervous spitting of the Mauser rifles, — rendered the more impressive from the fact that nothing can be seen, for there is not a single man there who does not use smokeless powder. A few Askaris are seen to fall, killed or wounded, and the advance ceases. The whole army replies, firing at an impossible range into a solid fort and still more solid precipice with rifles that have only reached Morocco after they have long been discarded as useless in Europe, and with powder that issues, evil-looking and evil-smelling, from the barrels of their weapons. After all, it made little difference where they fired, for few or none had ever handled a rifle before, and there was nothing to shoot at. Meanwhile the cavalry galloped to and fro in every direction, except to advance, waving flags and firing their rifles, apparently at the green plover that swept over in flocks, disturbed by the unusual racket. Inane impotent warfare, carried on by undis- ciplined and uncourageous men, whose uniforms alone bespoke them as soldiers. A curl of thin yellow smoke, widening as it ascended, rises from the rocks far above the house — the first shell fired by the artillery, followed by another and another, which, although aimed at the house itself, fall in widely different directions, more than once nearer the Maghzen troops than the enemy. During the entire action of this Saturday, although the range was only about 1000 metres, the house was only struck twice, and even the explosion of these two shells did not force the defenders to abandon the flat roof and windows, though they cannot have failed to be effective. Meanwhile the troops on the left, under the cover of the rocks, had entered and burned a village out of Raisuli's line of fire, and were returning toward the camp laden with loot, under the impression that their duty for the day was over. Nor did any one attempt to persuade them to re-enter the fight, and I watched them disappear, staggering under huge mattresses, chests of painted wood — the dowry of every Moorish bride, — and a thousand other household articles. For a background— the burning village, the flames of which rose lurid and roaring into the still air, to pass away in great rolls of heavy white smoke. From one to two o'clock the firing slackened, but at the latter hour another attempt was made to advance. The whole line pushed forward, but 700 or 800 yards from Zinat they broke, and — well, if they did not exactly run, they certainly returned very quickly. It was at this moment that two picturesque incidents occurred. From Raisuli's house emerged a woman, who, crossing the open ground under a heavy fire, mounted upon a rock and thence cursed the troops. She threw back her thick " haik," and, tearing her hair, waved her arms towards heaven, but the firing drowned her voice. Then slowly and majestically she drew her veil around her and retired. A few seconds later eight men, no doubt encouraged by her bravery, rushed into the open grounds, shouting and jeering at the retiring forces, and firing the while with their Mausers. It was then that the Commander-in-Chief fell wounded in the neck. A mule was brought, and, supported by his retinue, he was hurriedly taken back to the camp. By this time the army had used up all their shells and nearly all their cartridges. Even a reserve force, hidden in a river-bed a mile in the rear, had been firing at that range at the mountain ever since the morning, to the imminent danger of their advancing comrades. The army was now retiring in good order, followed by Raisuli's eight men, who every now and then sped a parting shot at them. The battle at Zinat was over. The great effort of the Maghzen had failed, and the stronghold and village, except for a few holes made by the shells, stood as placid and peaceful in appearance as it had been in the morning. The great Shereefian army had proved itself to be — like everything else in Morocco, except perhaps Raisuli himself — a gigantic bluff. It was well on in the afternoon now, and the scene of the fight was deserted. I crept up a little gully to within 400 or 500 yards of the house, and, peeping from between the rocks, I took a long view with my glasses. On the green sward in front of the house stood a man holding a pair of glasses to his eyes. On either side of him were a few retainers. He stood silent and still, watching the retreating army. It was Raisuli. At dawn on Sunday morning I was back again in the hills near Zinat. Never did the sun rise over a more peaceful scene or one more serenely beautiful. Peak after peak, many touched with snow, turned pink and gold as the first rays of the rising sun touched their summits. At Zinat itself all was quiet. A little blue smoke, the smoke of wood fire, arose from the chimneys of Raisuli' s house, in front of which half a dozen mountaineers were warming themselves over a small bonfire. It was nine o'clock before the troops left the camp, and, deploying in much the same formation as the day before, advanced across the plain. But their numbers were increased, for reinforce- ments had been hurriedly sent by night from Tangier, and fresh contingents of loyal mountaineers had turned up in force. But what was still more important was the addition of one man, an Algerian artillery officer attached to the Sultan's service by the French Government, whose shooting with the field-guns at Taza and Oujda had largely saved the situation at both places. It had been the intention of the Maghzen to send him on Saturday, but owing to his being a French subject they decided not to do so, as in their own consideration any one to do with France was at this period a person to be avoided. Their folly lost them the day. Had Si Abderrahman ben Sedira been behind the guns on Saturday, Raisuli's house, and probably Raisuli and most of his followers, would have been destroyed. The proof, if one were needed, is this. He accomplished more destruction with the two shells he fired at the fortress on Sunday morning than in the 130 shots fired on Saturday. A general advance toward Zinat was commenced a little before two, and the two shells above mentioned were fired from the field-guns. There was no reply from the house or from the rocks above it. Already the troops were considerably nearer than they had ever got the previous day. A little hesitation was visible, for no doubt the soldiers imagined that they were being allowed to approach to within an easy and certain range. The left were well ahead, led by Raisuli's late Calipha, more royalist than the King nowadays, who was followed close by his contingent of the Fahs tribe. Three hundred yards only now separated them from the village. With a wild shout and a volley from then* rifles the cavalry charged. Over the rising ground they passed, a brilliant flash of colour, and never drew rein till they were at Raisuli's door. The house and village were empty. Then began a scene of pandemonium. Askaris, horsemen, and tribal contingents rushed upon the castle, and the wildest looting commenced. Other bands, intent upon pillage, ransacked the neighbouring houses. In a few minutes flames burst forth from the thatched roofs of the surrounding huts. The flames spread, and in as short a space of time as it takes to write it the whole village was ablaze. The strong wind drove the heavy smoke in huge clouds across the face of the mountain, and in half an hour all that was left of Zinat were the burning houses from above which Raisuli's fortress towered, as yet but slightly damaged. Then smoke burst out from its windows. The roof, already half blown off by the shells, fell with a crash ; a wall toppled over in clouds of dust, and little by little the stronghold became a useless ruin. Not a shot was fired from the mountain, for there was no one to fire one. Silently in the night Raisuli and his followers, and the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages, with all their old people, their women and children, and their flocks and herds, had crept away into the darkness over the plain and on into the mountains. Not a guard had been posted to keep watch, not a blow had been struck to prevent them escaping. Under the rocks upon which I was seated the soldiers, laden with loot, were returning. Carpets, mattresses, boxes, vases of artificial flowers, tea-trays and tea-cups, o sacks of flour and grain, rolls of matting — all the belongings and appurtenances of Moorish houses formed their burdens. One soldier, a cheery kindly-looking giant, was whistling to a canary in a cage, which he had brought away in preference to more valuable loot. As I rode over the brow of the hill on my way back to Tangier I drew rein for a moment and looked back. The army was leaving Zinat, and the burning houses were little more than heaps of smouldering ashes. Beyond lay the high mountains of Beni Msaour, whence Raisuli and the inhabitants of his villages must have been looking upon the ruins of their homes.