The Sun.
London, England, 1860-01-17 00:00:00

THE WAR IN 310I?0C 0.

The ?lines' correspondent, " coached" by Spanish
officers almost as ignorant as himself of military
matters, affects to laugh at the Moors, who cannot
abide the bayonet, who are slow in firing, who wear
dirty white robes, and carry antiquated arms. So
laughed the Italian patricians when Valerian rode
forth to chastise Sapor and the Persians ; so
sneered our journalists when English troops were
sent to chastise the despicable Affghans, who
slew us among their passes like sheep.• To some
nun history teaches no lesson, and the past is a
useless blank. The Times may deride the scantily
dressed Moor, with his long cumbrous matchlock,
and his fierce but undisciplined cavalry ; but those
who have seen the Moor and Spaniard side by side
can laugh at the sophistries of a prejudiced reporter.
The Moors, as competent observers assure us, are
tall, stalwart, clean-built men, of unimpeachable
courage and great strength. They dress light be-
cause of the burning climata, they are dexterous
swordsmen and good shots. Some of their tribes are
horsemen, fierce and skilful as the old Mamelukes
or the murdered Janissaries—as superior to the ill-
mounted Spaniards as our own Hussars are to our
rustic yeomanry. They inhabit a country without
roads, and which in the rainy season is impassable;
in winter, rains, coming down in deluge rivers, will
torment and cow the Spaniards; with the summer
heat, a " dira cohers' of fevers will fight against the
invaders, who will find their paltry artillery poor
weapons against sun-strokes and the unseen blows
of African malaria. Our readers, too, must remem-
ber that these Spaniards are not the Spaniards of
the Cid, or of Ferdinand and Isabella's reign. They
are the degraded, priest-ridden, demoralised sub-
jects of a modern Messalina, sons of the men
were crossed
men whom the Iron Duke always spoke of with dis-
gust, fled
from the French whenever bayonets
nseolbdeieforis'et:he"
gPreetaetrebsotr Peterborough
robbers,h adhde or
haerreares-t
cowards'--men who to this day hate
cgeursst haes
us for winning
the victories they deny
We won. The Moors, we
must moreover remember are
, men not enervated by
civilisation's down bed
; they are staunch believers
in a pure Deism—in
Morocco less than in Turkey
corrupted by Alahomn dan innovations • they fight
for their wives,
children, and home ; they know the
country and bide their time.
Heat and famine will
fight th • eir quarrel, and drive the Spaniard to his
ships. At Gibraltar the Moors have been our true
friends ever since we held that bane of contention.
But for them there have been times during French
sieges when we should have been starved out over
and over again. Let us not imitate repudiating
Spain's ingratitude, and forget our "friends in
need ;" let the Spanish historians leave out all men-
tion of our saving victory of Salamanca, but let us
not forget the friendly Moors and their timely car-
goes of beef. That rock is a sore sight to Spanish
eyes. There may come a day when Moorish beef
will again be needed at "Gib," and Tetuan•will be
the nearest place to get it. The motive is not
a contemptible one. A man cannot face death
on potted meats, and Moorish oxen will again be
sought. Gibraltar—that fattens on Moorish trade,
that lives on the money of Moorish merchants, and
depends on Barbary for food—has surely no rea-
son for wishing to see the Spaniards victorious.—
The Leader and Saturday Analyst.