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Updated: May 17, 2025
"From Tiensiert to Marrakesh is three days journey," he had said, and, though it is five, no man contradicted him, perhaps because five is regarded as an unfortunate number, not to be mentioned in polite or religious society. "Three days will serve to sell the oil and rest the mules," he had continued, "and three days more will bring you home."
Probably no such thing had happened within the memory of man; for Sheshaoua is off the beaten track to Marrakesh, nor do travellers as a rule sleep out of their tents.
It is the dirtiest part of Marrakesh, and, all things considered, the least interesting. The lanes that run between its high walls are full of indescribable filth; comparison with them makes the streets of Madinah and Kasbah almost clean.
Throughout this strange ceremony of prayer I seem to see the bull-ring again, and in place of the dilals the cuadrillas of the Matadors coming out to salute, before the alguazils open the gates of the toril and the slaying begins. The dramatic intensity of either scene connects for me this slave market in Marrakesh with the plaza de toros in the shadow of the Giralda tower in Sevilla.
The 31st of March saw us away, leaving Mogador with the intention of marching to Marrakesh, which is the Moorish name for Morocco City, the southern capital of the empire.
Unfortunately, the administration of this Mellah is exceedingly bad, and there is no reason to believe that it will improve. When the Elevated Court is at Marrakesh the demand for work helps the Jewish quarter to thrive, but since the Sultan went to Fez the heads of the Mellah seem to be reluctant to lay out even a few shillings daily to have the place kept clean.
There are no foreign consuls in this far-off city, and no English element beyond the two or three missionaries who live there. Since the Sultan was at Fez, his army and his commander-in-chief, Kaid Maclean, were at Fez too: hence the reason of the Macleans' house standing empty, within which we were so fortunate as to find ourselves. Marrakesh cannot be described: it must be seen.
Here, in another instance, Marrakesh is unique: the narrow streets were in great part entirely roofed in overhead either by vines or by bamboos; the brilliant sunlight streamed through the spaces between the vines and canes, and chequered the seething white throng which eternally passed underneath it. From an open street we plunged into the cool shade of one of these arcades. And how it moved!
"Abd el Hakk approached. "'God bless thee, my mother, and repay thee a thousand-fold! "But Záïdah herself was poor. Her property consisted only of a hut and some fowls. She set before him eggs two, hard-boiled, bread also. He thanked God. He ate. "'Yes, God will repay, she said. "Next day Abd el Hakk passed on to Marrákesh. There God blessed him.
When occupied it was known only as either "The Palace of Granáda," or "The Red Palace." The colour of the earth here is precisely that of the plains of Dukála and Marrákesh, and the buildings, being all constructed of tabia, are naturally of that colour.
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