Vol. VI, No. 12 January 15, 1920 THE COLLEGE NEWS A FORTNIGHT WITH PRESIDENT THOMAS IN MOROCCO Described By Alys Russell, 90, in Letter to the News PART ONE THROUGH SPAIN TO FEZ Our way to Morocco lay through Spain, and, appropriately enough for a_ student of President Thomas’s first year of Gen- eral English lectures in 1885, began at the Pass of Roncesvalles, where Roland kept the Spaniards at bay, while Charle- magne’s troops retreated down the French slopes. After Roncesvalles, with equal appropriateness, we followed the career of the Cid, from his town of Burgos in Old Castille, to the remote monastery of San Pedro de Cardena, where he and Chimene lie buried. We did not, however, quote to each other their passionate love speeches from Corneille’s Cid, as Napoleon’s officers are reported to have done, with tears in their eyes, during their wanton destruc- tion in 1808 of the Cid’s own town. Alto- gether, we had a perfect motoring tour of 50 days in Spain, and though we felt that no other country cotild ever be so beauti- ful, nor so full of enchanting towns and wonderful cathedrals, we remembered that our goal was Fez, in that remote and mys- terious land described by Pierre Loti as “Au Moroc.” Found Motor to Fez With Difficulty We knew that it might be dangerous, if not impossible, to ‘pass through the Span- ish Zone of Morocco, where the Spaniards were fighting a serious rising of rebel! tribes; that the railways were unfinished and the hotels bad, and that we shou!d not have a private car nor the protection and hospitality of the’ French Governor, General Lyautcy,dike Mrs. Edith Wharton last year in her trip, so intérestingly des- scribed in the July, August and September numbers of Scribner’s. But nevertheless, we set sail from Gibraltar to Tangier, and there found we could get round the western coast to Casablanca by boat, and approach Fez from the south, missing the bad roads and the fighting in the Spanish Zone to the north. At Casablanca, we found with difficulty a motor car ample enough to take us, our Moorish guide (dressed in a beautiful embroidered robe of prickly- pear blosom pink with the red fez worm by bachelors), our seven suit cases and rugs. coffee machine, condensed milk, jam, bot- tle water, rubber tubs, etc., etc. on our three days journey to Fez. Visit Moorish College We arrived first at Rabat, a port fifty miles north of Casablanca, and one of the four make-zenia, or government towns, where the present Sultan lives, and Gen- eral Lyautey has his headquarters. But we were only interested in the old town with its walls, terraces and minarets, perch- ed on a cliff hanging over the Atlantic, and sloping down to the Bou-Rigrig river, and we visited first of all, the Moorish Me- dirsa or college. It was just inside the gate of the immense old Kabash (citadel) and was characteristic of the Mohamme- dan colleges everywhere as also of Moorish | domestic architecture. It was an exquisite- | ly ‘beautiful building, with long narrow | prayer and study rooms opening by carved | ceder doors on to an arcaded, perfectly proportioned courtyard, with a delicious. tile fountain in the middle. Up the narrow stairs were long corridors, from which opened small bedrooms, with tinv latticed windows on the courtyard, each room furnished with two mattresses, and a shelf for cooking materials. Cooking, we are told, was lone in the corridors, washing in the fountain. Each student receives free lodging and a loaf of bread a day from the Sultan, having to beg the rest of his food. In addition to free lodging and bread, free instruction is given at the mosques, principally in the Koran and in grammar and_ rhetoric, while for mathematics and_ science, astrology, al- chemy, and divination are substituted, and history and geography omitted alto gether. We were not allowed to entér tne taosques, but drove across the river to pictureseme Sale, the little old pirate town are where Robinson Crusoe was a prisoner, and we saw at sunset the famous tower of Hassan, built in 1173 and one of the three most beautiful Moorish towns still stand- ing. The next day we took the inland road to Meknez, with its famous ruined pleasure city of Moulay Ismail, the Sultan who was contemporary of Louis XIV, and exchanged magnificent presents with him, while-he employed an army of Christian captives on his great palaces, simply build- ing into the walls any who dropped at their work. In the original old town, we found another beautiful Medrisa, but in the new French one, only a horrible little hotel where we had to sleep. Picnic on Columns of Volubilis Early the next morning, we crossed the fierce, burning plateau with its flights of white cranes, and climbed up to the Zer- houn mountain, where on an almost inac- cessible peak is hidden away the sacred town of Moulay Idriss. It contains the tomb of Mohammed’s grandson, Moulay Idriss, the founder of the Idrissides, and the most venerated saint of all Morocco, and no Christian had ever been allowed inside its walls till a few years ago and still none may sleep in the town. But we entered quite simply, and were warmly welcomed by a native in the blue cloak of the French police, who rushed up to shake our hands, and to offer his ser- vices as a guide. We were allowed also to peep into the mosque, where many pilgrims were saying their Friday prayers, and we even saw through a crack the wo- men worshipping in the gallery, where they veiled, Our enthusiastic guide incited us may come only on Fridays and heavily to climb higher and higher in the town, to the mosque of Moulay’s barber and heeded not the midday sun, nor the uneven and unpaved paths, rather than streets, that threaded the town. We elt really in- dignant that after 1100 years the streets should still be so rough and impassable. Our picnic lunch was eaten sitting on the col- umms of neighboring Velubilis, the ruins of the old capital of the Roman Mauretania Tingitana, but we could not linger long as we had to reach Fez before dark, on ac- count of bandits. So we raced back along our mountain road, till we reached the main highway, and then hurried on by sunset and moonrise through the savagely beautiful country which Loti calls “tor- tured.” until we drove by moon light under the vast and monumental walls of Fez. SCHOOLS THE SHIPLEY SCHOOL Preparatory to Bryn Mawr College BRYN MAWR, PENNSYLVANIA Principals Eleanor O. Brownell Alice G. Howland THE ‘Harcum “ScHOOL FOR GIRLS—BRYN MAWR, PA. For Girls anne wre preparation a thorough course is offered For Girls not going to college the school offers special opportunities to pursue studies suited to their tastes and needs. For Girls desiring to specialize in Music and Art, there are well known artists as instructors. “In Bryn Mawr, a \beautiful a town, ten miles fom Philadelphia. New_ stone Idi sunny rooms with private bath, home life, large grounds; hockey, tennis, basket ball, riding. Catalogue. MRS. EDITH HATCHER HARCUM, B.L. (Pupil of Leschetizky), Head of the School Miss M. G. 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