This opinion, however, does not altogether coincide with that of the late Mr. Hay.  According to the report of Mr. Borrow, as found in his work, “The Bible of Spain,” the Moorish government, according to Mr. Hay, was “one of the vilest description, with which it was next to impossible to hold amicable relations, as it invariably acted with bad faith, and set at nought the most solemn treaties.”  But, if the Maroquine Court had acted in this most extraordinary manner, surely there would now be no Moorish empire of Western Barbary.

CHAPTER II.

Arrival at Tangier.—­Moorish Pilgrims in Cordova.—­Address of the Anti-Slavery Society.—­Mr. D. Hay, British Consul.—­Institut d’Afrique.—­Conveyance of Eunuchs in vessels under the French Flag.—­Franco-Moorish Politics.—­Corn Monopolies in Morocco.—­Love and veneration for the English name.—­Celebration of the Ayd-Kebir, great festival.  Value of Money in Morocco.—­Juvenile Strolling Singer.—­General account of the city of Tangier.—­Intercourse between the Moorish Emperor and the Foreign Consuls.—­Cockney sportsmen,—­The degrading of high Moorish Functionaries.—­How we smuggle Cattle from Tangier to Gibraltar.—­The Blood-letting of plethoric Placemen.

The communication between Gibraltar and Tangier is by no means easy and regular, though the places are only a few hours’ distance from the other.  I had waited many days at Gib. (as our captain called the former place), before the wind enabled us to leave, and then, our boat being a small transport for cattle, and the Government contractors wanting beef for the garrison—­for an Englishman or an English soldier cannot live in any part of the world without beef—­we were compelled to leave with the wind in our teeth, and to make a night’s voyage of this four or five hours’ traverse.  It might be worth while, one would think, to try a small steam-tug for the conveyance of cattle from Tangier to our garrison, which, besides, would be a great convenience for passengers.

On coming on deck in the morning, Tangier, “the city protected of the Lord,” appeared in all its North African lineaments, white and bright, shining, square masses of masonry, domes of fair and modest santos, and the heaven-pointing minarets; here and there a graceful palm, a dark olive, or the black bushy kharoub, and all denned sharply and clearly in the goodly prospect.  But these Barbary towns had lost much of their freshness or novelty to me, and novelty is the greatest ingredient of our pleasure in foreign travel.  I had also just travelled through Spain, and the south of this country is still, as to its aspect, part and parcel of Morocco, though it is severed by the Straits.  In the ancient Moorish city of Cordova, I had even saluted the turban.  I met two Moors strolling along, with halting steps and triste mien, through the streets, whom I instinctively addressed.

“Wein mashe.  Ash tomel.  Where are you going?  What are you doing?”