CHAPTER XIV
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1839-1840.
Marshal Valée, while informing his Government of the inutility of all his efforts to induce Abdel Kader to yield to his remonstrances, made proposals of his own as to the best mode of action to be pursued.
“The Government,” he suggested, “might either assume a defensive attitude, protesting against the Emir’s seizure of the disputed territory, and trusting to time and friendly offices to make him relax his hold; or it might attack him at once; or, again, it might place a force on the ground in question, intimating to the Emir that such a measure was not intended as a hostile demonstration, but merely as a joint occupation whilst the final arrangement was still pending.”
The Government accepted the last proposition, with the modification, that, instead of the permanent occupation of Hamzé and its neighbourhood, a corps should merely traverse the country, and that if the Emir resented such a proceeding, explanations might be given.
The Duke of Orleans had lately arrived at Algiers. In order to give the projected movement a greater degree of importance, it was arranged that he should superintend its execution. An expedition was to start from Milah, in the province of Constantine, penetrate the pass of the “Iron Gates,” cross the disputed territory, and thence onwards to Algiers. All the secrecy necessary for the accomplishment of a stratagem of war was used in order to give effect to the project.
A demonstration was made towards Boujie. The Kabyles rushed to that quarter to defend their country against the threatened invasion. The Marshal and the Prince left Milah on the 18th October, 1839, and going in an opposite direction, reached Setif on the 21st. Here, also, the Kabyles presented themselves. Their sheiks demanded an interview. Admitted to an audience with the French generals, they were shown passports, bearing Abdel Kader’s seal, authorising the passage of French troops, and they were satisfied. These passports were an artifice—Abdel Kader’s seal had been forged!
In place of entering the Kabyle mountains, the column which had been moved towards Boujie was countermarched, and joining the Marshal, advanced with him in the direction of the “Iron Gates.” The country was mountainous and intricate; but the Kabyle chiefs, serving as guides, were all delighted to facilitate the progress of the friends and allies of their Sultan. Under these auspicious circumstances the expedition, amounting to nearly 5,000 men, passed through the formidable defile of the “Iron Gates” without firing a shot. Had Abdel Kader been there with but 500 men, they would either never have entered it, or never emerged from it.
The next day the French passed through the Kabyle tribe, Beni Munsoor, who stared at them as if they had dropped from the clouds. On the 31st the column reached Ben Ini. There, at last, the French and Kabyles exchanged shots. Ben Salem, the Emir’s Khalifa over that district, starting, as from a troubled dream, when informed of the approach of the French, had just had sufficient time to make a tardy and useless demonstration against the invaders. On the 1st of November the Prince and the Marshal made a triumphal entry into Algiers, and were greeted with loud acclamations. The festivities to celebrate the event lasted four whole days. A splendid entertainment was given on the esplanade of the Bab-el-Oued to the heroes of the “Iron Gates.” Enthusiastic toasts were drunk in their honour. A palm wreath, plucked and woven in the pass itself, was formally presented to the Prince. Algeria was supposed to be conquered. It was the triumph of Caligula over the cockle-shells of Britain.
The idea on the part of the French Marshal had been that Abdel Kader might possibly write an angry letter or two on hearing of this unexpected irruption, that explanations would be given, and that there the matter would end. He was soon undeceived. The news of the passage of the “Iron Gates” reached Abdel Kader at Tekedemt. In eight-and-forty hours, by riding night and day, he was at Medea, and on the 4th of November he sent off the following dispatch to Marshal Valée:—
“We were at peace, and the limits between your country and mine were clearly defined, when the King’s son set out with a _corps d’armée_ to go from Constantine to Algiers; and this was done without giving me the slightest intimation, without even writing me a line to explain away such a violation of territory. If you had informed me that he had an intention of visiting my country, I would either have accompanied him myself, or sent one of my Khalifas to do so. But, so far from that, you have proclaimed that all the country between Algiers and Constantine is no longer under my orders. The rupture comes from you. Nevertheless, that you may not accuse me of treachery, I give you warning that I am about to recommence the war. Prepare yourself, then; warn all your travellers, your garrisons, your stations; in a word, take all the precautions you deem necessary.”
To his Khalifa Ben Salem, who had written for instructions how he was to act, he addressed words of consolation and encouragement in the following terms:—
“The rupture comes from the Christians! Your enemy is before you. Gather up your banners, and prepare for battle. On all sides the signal for the holy war is given. You are the man of these parts. I place you there to bar their entrance.
“Beware of being disconcerted. Tighten your waist-band, and be ready for everything. Rise to the height of events. Above all, learn patience. Let human vicissitudes find you impassible. They are trials—God sends them. Such trials are blended with the destiny of every good Mussulman who vows to die for his faith. Victory, please God, shall crown your perseverance. Salutation from Abdel Kader ibn Mehi-ed-deen.”
In similar words of sterling import, his other Khalifas were summoned to instant action.
“Treason has burst upon us from the infidel,” wrote Abdel Kader. “The proofs of his perfidy are glaring. He has traversed my territory without my leave. Gather up your burnous, tighten your waist-bands for battle—it is at hand. The public treasury is not rich; you yourselves have not sufficient money to hand to make war. Levy, therefore, as soon as you get the orders, an extraordinary impost. Be quick in action, and hasten to join me at Medea, where I am awaiting you.”
Valée was loth to believe that all hopes of accommodation were irrecoverably gone, and still more loth to enter into a struggle for which he was wholly unprepared. The French colonists in the plain of Algiers were utterly defenceless. No precautions whatever had been taken for their safety and protection; as if Abdel Kader’s terrible daring, promptness, and activity were things hitherto unfelt and unknown. Even whilst the storm was hourly gathering on the mountains before his eyes, Valée contented himself with reporting home, and sending the Jew Durand on a mission to Medea, with a letter to Abdel Kader. This missive concluded with these words:—
“Have a little patience; I expect orders from Paris; the affair will yet be satisfactorily arranged.”
On the very day that Durand arrived at Medea, Nov. 14th, 1839, the Khalifas, assembled together according to orders, were holding a grand military council, presided over by the Sultan himself. Durand was introduced, and the Marshal’s letter was read aloud. An agitated discussion ensued, ending in an unanimous cry for war.
“You are wrong,” said Durand. “France is a powerful country. You have had experience of her armies. You know how great is her strength, and how vast are her resources. You will be defeated.”
“Then how long,” exclaimed Abdel Kader, “are we still to endure the insults of the Christians? They have given us proofs upon proofs of their bad faith.”
“I assure you,” said Durand, “you do wrong to get angry about a trifle. The French have no wish to deceive you, or to quarrel with you; and if the King’s son has passed through your country, it was only on a journey of pleasure.”
The council adjourned till the following day. Abdel Kader and Durand remained together alone.
The latter now endeavoured to convince his sovereign of the risks and dangers he would incur by involving himself in another war. He expatiated on the rawness of the troops which Abdel Kader had at his command, his feeble resources, and the internal agitations which, more or less, at all times fettered his actions, as opposed to the military strength and discipline, and the unity and concentration of purpose, which enabled the French to triumph over every obstacle.
“All that I know,” said Abdel Kader. “But my Khalifas loudly call for war. My people already look upon me as an infidel because I have not yet commenced it. I do not desire war. It is the French who are urging me into it.”
The council met again; and again there was but one voice, and that was for war—the holy war.
“Be it so,” said Abdel Kader, “since such is your desire. But I accede to your wishes on one condition alone. You are going to be exposed to fatigues, to hardships, to trials and reverses. You may despond, grow weary of the contest, repent. Swear to me, then, on the sacred book of God, that so long as I wave the standard of the Djehad, you will never desert me.”
The chiefs and Khalifas all swore.
On the 18th November, 1839, Abdel formally declared war against the French, in the following letter to Marshal Valée:—
“IL HADJ ABDEL KADER, PRINCE OF THE FAITHFUL, TO MARSHAL VALÉE.
“Peace and happiness on those who follow the path of truth.
“Your first and your last letters have reached us. We have read and understood them. I have already informed you that all the Arabs, from Ouelassa as far as Kef, are unanimous for the holy war. I have done all in my power to appease them, but in vain. There is not a voice for peace. All are preparing for war. I must conform to the general opinion, in obedience to our sacred law. I am acting loyally by you in thus informing you of what is passing. Send me back my consul who is in Oran, that he may return to his family. Be prepared. All the Mussulmans declare the holy war. Whatever may happen, you cannot accuse me of treachery. My heart is pure, and never will you find me acting contrary to justice.
“Written this Monday evening, at Medea, 11 Ramadan, 1255 (18th Nov., 1839).
“P.S.—When I wrote to the king, he replied that you had the direction of all affairs, both for peace and war. I choose war, as well as all the Mussulmans. Consider yourself hereby warned, and answer as you think proper. It is for you to speak, and no other.”
The lightning had darted from the cloud, and the storm burst. Such was the admirable concert which pervaded the measures of Abdel Kader, that in a few hours, from the heights of Beni Sala he saw his Arabs and Kabyles spreading themselves all over the plains of Algiers. Fresh relays came pouring down from the mountains on every side. The defiles and gorges of the Atlas bristled with horse and foot. They came rolling onwards like a mighty avalanche bursting its barriers and rushing on the plains below.
The Khalifas of Medea and Miliana at the head of their bands crossed the Cheliff. Ben Salem and his Kabyles closed in on the devoted French stations and colonies from the east; the Hadjouts came raging on from the west. The French cantonments, their agricultural establishments, their model farms, their scattered outposts, were presently overwhelmed and destroyed by the resistless and relentless cataclysm. The smoke of blazing villages darkened the air. In many, the colonists were massacred. Flying from others, the wretched fugitives were pursued to the very gates of Algiers.
There the consternation surged and swelled like a tornado. The native population menaced insurrection. Rumours, magnified into imagined realities, filled every breast with alarm and terror. The wildest and most impossible suggestions were received and treated as facts. Abdel Kader was said to be advancing at the head of 30,000 men, preceded by 5,000 pioneers to sap the walls. The houses in the suburbs were evacuated. The Marshal’s house, in the quarter of Mustapha Pacha, was dismantled. The barracks bearing the same name were loopholed. For weeks the terror and dismay went on increasing. Officers swept the horizon with their telescopes, and were obliged to remain helpless spectators of the scenes of devastation which spread before them. Provisions at length fell short. Famine aggravated the horrors of distress and fear.
Now, like an eagle soaring from his eyrie, Abdel Kader hovered over the field of carnage. Hordes of Kabyles followed in his train. These hardy warriors, electrified by his appeals, had sworn to carry him triumphantly into the heart of Algiers. Relying on their prowess and devotion, he had solemnly fixed the day when his horse should drink at the waters of Bab-el-Oued. But before leading them against the redoubtable ramparts of the town itself, he resolved to essay their firmness and resolution against the fort Boudourou.
The Kabyles rushed impetuously to the attack, but the cannon balls which mowed down their ranks filled them with unaccustomed terror. They vacillated, broke, retreated, and dispersed. Abdel Kader felt his prey had eluded his grasp, and, in a paroxysm of grief and indignation, exclaimed, as he looked at their broken ranks, “These, then, are the proud Kabyles! May their vows be ever confounded. May their prayers be never heard. May they live in misery and contempt. May they fall to that degree of wretchedness, that a miserable Jew may have them at his feet.” And he returned to his heights.
Marshal Valée had at last awakened to a sense of his situation. Blidah and Bouffarick, at the foot of the Atlas, were hastily strengthened and reinforced. A few thousand troops were sent out in detachments to protect what remained of the ravaged colonial settlements. Urgent dispatches to the Home Government fully stated the extent of the recent disasters. The ministry ostentatiously declared their adoption of a firm and irrevocable policy. Algeria was announced to be “henceforth and for ever a French province.”
Reinforcements rapidly arrived at Algiers, and the effective force of Marshal Valée was soon raised to 30,000 combatants. It was for him so to handle them as to make a permanent impression on his restless and indefatigable enemy. The system adopted by his predecessors—of sudden incursions, followed by as sudden retreats—was abandoned. His plan of attack comprised three elements of action. These were—to seize and destroy the strongholds which Abdel Kader had erected, and with them his arsenals, his magazines, his stores; to attack and annihilate his regulars, the mainstay of his power; and to occupy permanently the districts inhabited by the principal Arab tribes, and by thus showing them how wholly unable their Sultan was to defend or protect them, to destroy his influence and power.
Abdel Kader was at this moment virtually the sovereign of all Algeria with the exception of the towns on the sea-coast. Oran and Tittery were his by treaty. The tribes stretching along the south of the province of Constantine acknowledged his sway. The Sahara, for the most part, obeyed his mandates. Nominally, 70,000 cavalry were at his beck; although in reality he could only depend on the Arab contingents who were directly controlled by his Khalifas, or who were within the sweep of his arm. His fighting force was about 30,000 cavalry, regular and irregular, and 6,000 regular infantry.
Concentrating his force at Blidah, at the foot of the lesser Atlas, Valée prepared to carry his first offensive movement into effect, by marching on Medea and Miliana. The river Chiffa was passed on the 27th April, 1840. The Sultan’s cavalry now appeared in considerable numbers. The right wing of the French army extended towards a lake, but without reaching it. Abdel Kader threw his squadrons into the intermediate space, passed on, and disappeared. The plain of Algiers thus became exposed to his blows; and for some time it was thought that he was advancing in that direction, sweeping everything before him. But the movement had only been a feint. The object of Abdel Kader was to force Valée to abandon his march along the valley of the Cheliff, and to oblige him to enter the mountains by the gorges of the Mouzaia. In this purpose he succeeded.
He had been for months labouring night and day to render these formidable passes still more formidable by all the appliances of art. It was here, he declared, the French army should find its grave. Every available height and eminence had been cut into entrenchments. A redoubt with heavy batteries crowned the highest peak. In its immediate vicinity were placed his regular infantry—the battalions of Medea, Miliana, Mascara, Sebaou, and Tekedemt, officered by French deserters. Arabs and Kabyles swarmed in all directions, and, crouched in nooks and crevices, stood ready to open a dropping fire on the French column, as it wound its way with staid and heavy tread along the narrow causeway which hung midway on the mountain slopes.
Valée divided his force into three columns. These were led by Duvivier, Lamoricière, and D’Hautpoul. To the astonishment of the Arabs, the French, leaving the road, came vaulting over the steeps. Ravines, woods, and rocks were all equally mastered by them. Slowly but surely they were reaching the entrenchments. Suddenly a thick mist enveloped the scene. The firing was incessant. It flashed and sparkled through the vapoury panoply like the coruscations of a phosphorescent sea. The mist rolled away. The combatants had met. They fought hand to hand. The Arabs and Kabyles clung with desperation to their hiding-places. The French clambered up, grasping at shrubs, branches, and sprigs. They appeared able to surmount every difficulty before them.
There still remained the grand redoubt. Abdel Kader here made a last stand in person. His regulars and masses of the Kabyles rallied round him. The converging columns of the French came creeping on. The roll of drums and the clang of trumpets resounded on every side. The Arabs were bewildered by the ubiquity of their foes. Alike attacked in front and menaced in rear, they wavered, broke, and fled. Lamoricière and his Zouaves, Changarnier and the 2nd Light Infantry burst over the entrenchments. The tricolour waved on the highest summit of the Atlas.
Abdel Kader retreated on Miliana. On arriving there he found the inhabitants in the very act of deserting the town. Placing himself in the gateway, he drew his sword, and threatened to cut down the first that crossed his path. The panic ceased. The people returned. Valée, in the meantime, entered Medea, and found it abandoned and half burnt.
Abdel Kader had made his last attempt to fight the French on the principles of European warfare. It had failed. He never repeated the experiment. All his Khalifas and chiefs received orders never again to encounter the French in masses, but to confine themselves to harassing them, hanging on their flanks and rear, cutting off their communications, falling on their baggage and transports, and, by feigned retreats, by ambuscades, by sudden and unexpected sallies, perplexing, wearying, and bewildering them.
Valée, after leaving a garrison in Medea, under Duvivier, prepared to return to the plains. He advanced on Miliana, which Abdel Kader at once evacuated. But when the French column took its departure and entered the mountain passes, Abdel Kader quickly resumed his ascendancy, and by unceasing attacks, day and night, compelled it to emerge from its perilous position at the sacrifice of whole companies annihilated, baggage captured, and wounded abandoned.
It now became necessary for the French to re-victual their garrisons in Medea and Miliana. This dangerous task was entrusted to Changarnier, who accomplished it with consummate skill and daring, whilst his troops were running a gauntlet of fire. Closely blockaded by Abdel Kader, these garrisons had led a life of privation and suffering difficult to portray. The Arabs and Kabyles occupied all the surrounding country. They attacked the French foraging parties. The most daring and vigorous sorties, though scaring them for the moment, made no permanent impression on their vulture-like tenacity. In the month of October, 1840, the garrison of Miliana had nearly disappeared under the complicated effects of famine, fever, and nostalgia. Out of 1,500 men, 750 were dead, 500 were in the hospital, and the remainder, poor crawling skeletons, could hardly hold their muskets.
Not only in the mountains of Tittery did Abdel Kader hold the French in his iron grasp. From the frontiers of Morocco to those of Tunis he kept them constantly at bay, counteracting or nullifying their operations by his almost superhuman efforts. Ever in the saddle, sudden and mysterious in his movements, to-day engaged with the French, on the morrow a hundred miles off, rallying and inspiriting a flagging tribe of Arabs—he seemed, with his constitution of iron, to dispense with rest or repose; as though his body had become in a manner etherealised by the fiery soul within.
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