He being determined to see the adventure through, engaged a Jewish interpreter, went to the Canaries, chartered a schooner and landed at Asaka after having entered into negotiations from Mogador as to his reception with the chiefs.
Eight or ten days he fought with contrary winds aboard his little unseaworthy schooner, reached Asaka, landed, was well received, made treaties with the chiefs, and all went well until an inferior chief, either being bribed by the Sultan or because he did not think himself sufficiently regarded, or because of the old antipathy to Christians, ever so strong amongst Mohammedans, rode up at the head of fifty horsemen and spread confusion amongst the assembled natives, declaring that he would permit no Christian to traffic in the land. Shots were exchanged, and Spilsbury, bearing his treaty, as Camoens bore his poems, had to escape on board his schooner and for the present leave the enterprise; though, whilst I write, I should not be surprised to learn that he was near Asaka with a fresh expedition. { 39a} Quite naturally the advent of such a consul from a new country such as “Batagonia,” { 39b} his flag, his fez, his name, and all the subsequent proceedings created some excitement in such a quiet place as Mogador. Consuls assembled, took counsel, wrote dispatches, charged for stamps, and generally fulfilled the functions of their office. Long-bearded Jews, whose talk up to that time had never strayed from money, now discussed questions of diplomacy, of international law, discoursed on piracy, of filibustering, wondered if business would have been improved if Spilsbury had got a footing, but thought no affair sublunary could be quite rotten if Daniel Sassoon { 40} had had a finger in the pie.
The Arabs generally were puzzled, but pleased to think there seemed a chance of good repeating rifles being in the market; but all the European residents saw clearly the hand of all-encroaching England, and in especial the French were certain that Mr. Curzon had given his sanction to a plot to extend the dominion of the empire over Sus.
All things considered, it was a most inauspicious time to attempt a journey to such a place as Tarudant, guarded most jealously itself from Europeans both by the fanaticism of the inhabitants and by the special prohibition of the Moorish Government to any European to pass south of the Atlas Mountains to the plains. Hardly had we well landed in the town, when a report was spread that we were agents of the British Government, or advance couriers in the interest of the syndicate. Our sojourn at the house of so well-known a missionary as Mr. Zerbib in some way allayed the public fear, for no one credited him with any but purely spiritual views of conquest. The fact that we had no arms, suggested our great cunning, for no one doubted that we could lay our hand on stacks of rifles if we chose, though how we could have done so was a mystery, as all the influence of our minister at Tangier proved insufficient to procure me even a pass for a common double-barrelled gun, so much alarmed were the authorities after the recent landing on the coast. No one, except the Turks, more clearly comprehend that only the jealousy of the European nations saves their independence than do the ruling classes of Morocco. They understand entirely the protestations about better government, progress, morality and all the usual “boniment” which Christian powers address to weaker nations when they contemplate the annexation of their territory. On the one hand they see the missionary striving to undermine their faith, and on the other they behold the whisky seller actually sapping their Mohammedan morality; behind them both they see the ironclad arriving in their harbours under frivolous pretences to exact enormous compensation often for fancied injuries, and they well know the official Christian’s God is money, or as they say themselves, “amongst the Nazarenes all is money, nothing but money.” { 41} The Moors have vices, plenty of them, some of them well-known in London and in Paris, but in their country a poor Mohammedan, unless in case of famine, is seldom left to starve. Even a begging Christian renegade, of whom there are a few still left, always receives some food where’er he goes, and is not much more miserable than the poor Eastern whom one sees shivering about the docks in London and imploring charity for “Native Klistian” with an adopted whine, and muttered national imprecation on the unsuspecting almsgiver.