John Buffa opens his 1810 Travels through the Empire of Morocco not with a landscape but with a bureaucratic grievance: his removal from army half-pay and a failed bid for a Gibraltar post. This personal stake frames the narrative as both a medical mission and a political document. The preface establishes a tone of professional resentment, naming the Army Medical Board as persecutors, while the journey itself is triggered by a request from the British Consul General to attend the Governor of Larache. Buffa’s voice is that of an aggrieved officer turned observer, blending clinical detachment with a sharp eye for imperial power structures.

A Physician’s Entry into Court Politics

Buffa’s account is shaped by his dual role as doctor and diplomat. He gains the “approbation and friendship” of the Emperor and court officers, enabling him to secure provisions for the British Navy. The narrative shifts between medical detail and political maneuvering, as when he describes restoring the Governor of Larache to health. The excerpts show a writer who measures his words carefully, noting the Emperor’s “humane efforts” while also recording the “severe corporal punishments” inflicted on governors. This tension between reform and despotism recurs throughout the text.

The Rise of Muley Solyman: A Narrative of Conquest

Buffa recounts the Emperor’s ascent with a brisk, almost military cadence. Muley Solyman, a prince “studying the Alcoran” in retreat, is called by priests and militia to claim the throne against three warring brothers. The prose accelerates through a series of pitched battles: Fez is taken, Mequinez reduced, and the capital entered “in triumph.” The language is factual but charged with momentum—phrases like “fighting and conquering the whole way” compress months of conflict into a single sweep. Buffa then pivots to Solyman’s peacetime reforms, noting the Emperor’s dedication to “amelioration” and strict oversight of governors.

Governance and Grievance in Fez

Letter XIII shifts from dynastic history to administrative critique. Buffa describes a system where governors are “answerable for crimes” and face sudden disgrace, their wealth confiscated by the Emperor. Yet he observes that some still “squeeze from their wretched vassals as much money as they can.” The tone is analytical, noting the Emperor’s “dreadful vengeance” reserved for annual reviews. This section also catalogues indignities suffered by Christians, the city’s water supply, and domestic vermin—details that ground the political analysis in everyday life. Buffa’s voice remains that of a pragmatic observer, wary of both Moorish despotism and British bureaucratic betrayal.

Buffa’s narrative is best read as a layered document: part travelogue, part political memoir, part professional complaint. Readers should attend to the shifts between personal grievance and ethnographic reportage, noting how the author’s own frustrations color his descriptions of Moroccan governance. The text rewards attention to its structural contrasts—between the rapid conquest of Solyman and the static oppression of daily rule, between the physician’s clinical eye and the officer’s wounded pride.