CHAPTER III

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1833.

The appeal thus made by Abdel Kader was variously entertained by the different tribes to which it was addressed. The religious party was inclined to give its strenuous support to one who summoned them to fight for the faith. The men of worldly views and individual ambition looked with jealousy on such an assumption of sovereignty. Chiefs, who even under the Turkish rule had struggled to maintain an independent existence, felt little disposed to accept the mandates of a compeer, whose claims to an extended sway were in their eyes no better than their own.

Even in the province of Oran, the imposing circumstances under which Abdel Kader had been installed, had excited party feelings rather than disarmed them. Sidi-il-Aribi, a powerful chieftain, whose influence was supreme over the tribe of the Flittas, in the valley of the Cheliff, spoke of the new power with undisguised contempt. El Ghomari, chief of the Beni Engad, held sternly aloof. Noona, who affected to hold Tlemsen for the Sultan of Morocco, felt it beneath him to give his adhesion. Mustapha-ibn-Ismail, an old and experienced warrior, grown grey in the Turkish service as leader of the _Maghzen_, scornfully disdained to kiss the hands, as he expressed it, of a beardless boy.

As a contrast to these selfish views and circumscribed ambitions, Abdel Kader presented to his countrymen the one simple and majestic idea of an Arab nationality. Little as it might be at first comprehended and appreciated by a race accustomed for centuries to bow their necks to a foreign yoke, and in whom all principles of patriotism had long been extinguished, he trusted that amongst the hundreds of tribes which occupied Algeria there would be some, at least, in whom it would awake a responsive echo.

On the other hand, though not a fanatic himself, Abdel Kader well knew the latent fires of fanaticism which slumber in every Moslem breast. What love of country would not effect, zeal for religion might surely accomplish. He determined, consequently, to make this latter feeling the key-stone to the mighty superstructure his genius alone had dared to imagine. In this unity of design consisted the grandeur of the drama he proposed to exhibit to the civilised world.

He now issued invitations for a general rendezvous of forces at Mascara, in the spring of 1833. Many important tribes from the Tell and the Sahara responded cordially to the summons. Of the _Maghzen_ tribes, who had been so long the instruments of the Turks for the enslavement and oppression of their brethren, some sent evasive, some insulting answers. Anarchy was better suited to their sordid dispositions. They were ready, if occasion presented itself, to offer their mercenary swords to the French.

On the day appointed—May 18th, 1833—an imposing array of 8,000 cavalry and 1,000 infantry assembled on the plains of Ersibia. Abdel Kader’s own standard, a large white flag, with an open hand in the centre, was unfurled before the multitude with great pomp and ceremony. After riding through the ranks, and apostrophising the assemblage in a few short, trenchant sentences, which caused the blood to thrill through their veins, he led them off to take the field in the direction of Oran.

On this expedition he inaugurated that system, so conspicuous alike for its simplicity and its regularity, which he afterwards maintained under all changes and vicissitudes throughout his whole career. His tent was large and commodious, and displayed hangings adorned with red, blue, yellow, and green crescents. A woollen curtain divided it into two compartments. The largest of these was the _menzoul_, or general reception-room, open to all comers, and in which he heard appeals and administered justice. The smaller he used as his bedroom and library; and here he spent more time in reading than in sleeping.

On alighting at the end of the day’s march, which was generally over by mid-day, he dismissed all his attendants, and retired into the strictest privacy, scrupulously devoting an hour to prayer. He then went into the _menzoul_, where his principal officers and secretaries were in waiting to receive him. The movements of the enemy and his own plans were now discussed, or orders and dispatches were dictated by himself. On these occasions he frequently supported his commands by appropriate quotations from the Koran. His ordinary military council consisted of four chiefs, a kehié, and his treasurer; but other chiefs were called in, if thought advisable. He listened to the suggestions of all with the greatest patience and urbanity.

At sunset, Abdel Kader stood at the door of his tent, and preached. None were compelled to attend; but none, if possible, absented themselves from these discourses. Thence, as from a central source of light and heat, all daily received that warmth of warlike and religious zeal which glowed within their breasts. For Abdel Kader pre-eminently possessed the art of attracting the love and admiration of his followers; and he wielded with an almost magical power that talisman which is the gift, as it is the sign, of noble and exalted natures.

For some weeks previous to Abdel Kader’s present advance on Oran, the Hashem Gharabas, his family tribe, had been engaged in a series of encounters with the French, under General Boyers. This general had lately been replaced by General Desmichels; and Abdel Kader came up just in time to assist his allies in resisting a vigorous attack made on them by the latter. Dividing his force into two portions, he sent one to fall on the enemy’s left flank, whilst, at the head of the other, he marched directly up to a fort which the French general had erected at a place called Figuier. The defence of this fort was supported by a battalion of infantry, a squadron of Chasseurs d’Afrique, and two pieces of artillery.

On approaching the fort, the Arab infantry wavered. Abdel Kader at once sprang from his horse, and taking the lead on foot, attempted an escalade. Twice repulsed in his endeavours to take the fort, he remounted, and drawing off his men, rejoined his cavalry in the plain. There the French were utterly unable to resist the onset made upon them. Their lines of skirmishers were swept away, their squares broken. The engagement was prolonged till night, when Desmichels retreated under cover of the fire from his artillery. For some days there was a suspension of hostilities.

Abdel Kader, impatient of inaction, proceeded one night with a hundred picked horsemen, and placed himself in ambush in a copse, a short distance from Oran, through which the French were accustomed to send their reliefs of cavalry to the outposts. At the ordinary hour, a squadron of Chasseurs made their appearance. Abdel Kader led on the charge, routed and dispersed them, slaying several, and taking thirty prisoners. One Chasseur made a thrust at him with his spear. The weapon passed under his left arm. He held it firmly between his left arm and side as in a vice, and with a swing of his sabre cut off the Frenchman’s head.

In the _mêlée_ his cousin Achmet was shot down. Abdel Kader was by the side of his wounded relative in a moment. After stanching the blood and binding up his wound, he placed the sufferer before him on his horse, and carried him out of reach of danger. Shortly afterwards, seeing that the French were not disposed again to measure their swords with his, he drew off his whole force, and returned to Mascara.

Abdel Kader had conducted this movement more with the intention of trying his men, and of inspiring them with confidence, than with the hopes of achieving any permanent result. He felt that the jealousies and rivalries which environed him could only be dispersed by the tumult of battle; and that all internal difficulties would vanish before success. His reception at Mascara fully confirmed this impression. Many chiefs who had hitherto withheld their allegiance, were there awaiting him. Hadj-ibn-Isa, a celebrated Marabout, alone brought with him deputations from twenty tribes in the Sahara.

Abdel Kader, deeply impressed with the necessity of absolute union amongst his countrymen, to enable him to complete their common independence, now determined on smiting with the sword all who questioned or attempted to resist his power. Sidi-il-Aribi had been collecting forces, which, as he never hesitated to declare, were to be directed against the aspiring son of Mehi-ed-deen.

Abdel Kader paid him an unexpected visit at the head of 5,000 men, announcing his approach by discharges of musketry and shouts of triumph. His rival was completely taken by surprise; and the defence he attempted was quickly paralysed. Tents were knocked over, prisoners made, flocks carried off. It was only by sending a written engagement of submission, and sending his son as a hostage to his conqueror, that the old chief obtained forgiveness of the past, and security for the future.

On continuing his course through the vast valley of the Cheliff and the adjoining regions, Abdel Kader received the adhesion of several important tribes. He even advanced as far as the Ouarensis, a difficult mountain range, inhabited by fierce Kabyles. These stern republicans, secure in their fastnesses, and indifferent as to the doings of the outer world, were accustomed to scorn all authority. Uncertain as to their attitude, Abdel Kader refrained from pushing his expedition further. At a later period these very tribes obeyed him like children.

Where no great feudal influences prevailed, the authority of Abdel Kader was promptly and even thankfully accepted. The small provincial towns at once opened their gates to him. His occupation of Arzew, situated two leagues from the port of that name, was marked by a circumstance which gave rise to reports reflecting both erroneously and injuriously on his character for humanity.

He had issued the most stringent orders that no communications should be opened with the French. In direct violation of this order, Sidi Achmet- ibn-il-Taher, the Cadi of that town, had supplied the French with cattle and forage, and, what was considered a far graver crime, had even sold them horses. Abdel Kader had often written to him, warning him of the consequences of his conduct, and menacing him with exemplary punishment if he persisted in his proceedings. The Cadi, unable to give up the profit he was making by his transactions, and calculating on French protection, persevered. Abdel Kader one day suddenly dashed into the town. The Cadi was seized, loaded with chains, and conveyed to the prison at Mascara.

Giving strict injunctions that nothing was for the present to be done to the delinquent, he rode off to the Beni Amers on matters which detained him several days. His private intentions were to allow the Cadi to ransom his life (justly forfeited by the law of the Koran) for 5,000 francs. On his return to Mascara he found, to his surprise, that the Cadi had been put to death. Mehi-ed-deen had had him tried. He had been condemned to capital punishment, and the sentence had been carried into immediate execution. His eyes had been put out. The responsibility of this latter act of brutality, which was the spontaneous suggestion of one of the executioners, has been spitefully thrown by some on Abdel Kader.

Fully comprehending that mere successes in the field would not be sufficient to consolidate his dominion, Abdel Kader now sought to place his sovereignty on a more solid basis, by holding places of strength, erecting arsenals, and establishing stores and magazines. With this view he attacked Tlemsen, about seventy miles to the south-west of Oran. This town is situated on an eminence at the foot of steep and lofty mountains. Its walls are remarkable for their thickness and solidity, and it had frequently withstood sieges.

The mainspring of Abdel Kader’s strength at this epoch lay in the Beni Amers and the Hashems. Taking strong detachments from these tribes, he approached the town. Its population was divided into two parties, Turks and Kolouglis. The latter (descendants of Turkish and Arab parents) occupied the citadel. The Arabs were commanded by Noona, who has been already mentioned. Abdel Kader summoned the latter to surrender. He refused. The resistance which he offered was, however, quickly overcome; for while Abdel Kader assaulted him on one side, the Kolouglis opened fire on him from the citadel.

When the town of Tlemsen was won, Abdel Kader treated its inhabitants with the greatest consideration. He had hoped that the Kolouglis would acknowledge him. But, secure in their stronghold, they rejected all his overtures. They consented, however, to maintain with him a friendly intercourse. Having no artillery wherewith to reduce them, he accepted the compromise, and installing one of his lieutenants as governor of the town, returned to Mascara.

On the road he received tidings of his father’s death. Mehi-ed-deen had lived long enough to see his favourite son embarked in that career which he fondly hoped would be the prelude to his country’s freedom and independence. The bereaved son was deeply afflicted by the loss of a parent who had from his infancy lavished on him all the endearments of love and affection, who had always treated him as a bosom friend and companion, and to whose influence he in truth owed his high position. But, so far from having time to indulge in the temporary retirement from public affairs which his grief demanded, he was barely able to follow his father’s remains to the grave.

Desmichels had just taken Arzew and Mostaganem. Abdel Kader had thus not a moment to lose. It was imperative on him to make every endeavour to nullify this extension of French dominion in the province of Oran. On the 2nd of August, 1833, he was under the walls of Mostaganem, and led an assault against it. Desmichels, leaving the garrison to defend itself, immediately returned to Oran. He hoped that the presence of Abdel Kader at Mostaganem would leave him free to carry out successfully an incursion he had long contemplated.

On the 5th of August, the day after his arrival in Oran, consequently, he sent a force of 3,000 cavalry and infantry and three field-pieces to attack the Douairs and Zmelas, two tribes who were doing the French irreparable injury by the activity with which they were enforcing the blockade established by Abdel Kader. On the 6th, at daybreak, the column came upon the Arab encampments. The artillery opened, the infantry moved on at the double, the cavalry charged.

The Arabs, surprised, bewildered and stupefied, made but a straggling and ineffectual defence. Finally they decamped, leaving their herds and their flocks, and many women and children, in the enemy’s hands. Suddenly their retrograde movement appeared, to the astonishment of the French, to be stopped; their numbers, as if by enchantment, to be increased; their attitude to have become offensive. Abdel Kader had arrived.

Divining his adversary’s intention in leaving Mostaganem, he had ceased to superintend the siege in person, and had rushed to the point more directly menaced. He came up at the critical moment. It cost him little to turn the tide of battle. The French infantry beat a rapid retreat, some in hastily-formed squares, some in broken file; the cavalry maintained a flying flight; the artillery alone did good service. Anticipating an easy conquest, the French had not brought provisions. They were now driven from their spoil. The pangs of hunger and thirst assailed them. The scorching sun blazed over their heads. The Arabs presently enveloped them on all sides.

“Fire the plains!” cried Abdel Kader. Instantly hundreds of horsemen galloped off, and lighted the dry herbs and brushwood extending behind the French rear. The unfortunate soldiery, retarded in their march by the wounded, whom they nobly refused to abandon, had to tread on burning cinders and wade through sheets of flame. Human nature sank beneath the trial. Many flung away their arms. Some were suffocated; others, in their despair, threw themselves frantically on the ground, eager to part with their lives, of which the Arab yataghans soon relieved them.

Desmichels had been apprised by some fugitives of the disasters which had befallen the expedition. The whole garrison of Oran was promptly turned out to rush to the rescue. The troops barely reached the ground in time to save their comrades from utter annihilation.

Abdel Kader, in the full flush of victory, returned without delay to hasten on the siege of Mostaganem. It is difficult to say whether most admiration should be bestowed on the boldness of his design, or on the courage and perseverance which so nearly accomplished it. Abdel Kader had no siege artillery; he possessed only infantry and cavalry. The infantry had already made themselves masters of the suburbs, and were attacking one of the forts close to the sea. A French brig galled them with its fire. The Arabs stripped, swam off, holding their muskets over their heads, and attempted to board it. They were driven off; but the fearless audacity thus displayed shows how much may be achieved by Arabs when commanded and inspired by a spirited leader. Abdel Kader had commenced sapping. The sap reached the foot of the walls. An explosion effected a breach. The order for a general assault was given. The Arabs, led on and animated by the voice and example of their Sultan, rolled on like a mighty wave, and like a wave, dashed and receded. The French, lining the tops of the wall on either side, poured in such a flanking fire on the assailants, that after a desperate struggle they were hurled back in confusion. Abdel Kader, finding his last resource exhausted, raised the siege and returned to Mascara.

Though Abdel Kader had already done sufficient to justify and secure the confidence of his immediate companions in arms, and (despite the jealousies of certain chiefs) to centre on himself the hopes and good wishes of all the tribes within the province of Oran, yet the force of circumstances had compelled some of the latter, however anxious to rally round his standard, to submit to the invaders.

The Douairs and Zmelas, constantly exposed, by their vicinity, to the incursions of the French, had suffered losses which the pardonable instincts of nature had induced them to repair by an apparently friendly accommodation with an enemy whom they inwardly detested. Strangers to that spirit of self-abnegation which true patriotism requires, they had consented to purchase a momentary tranquillity by accepting French protection. By a treaty with Desmichels they had established themselves under the French flag, in the valley of Miserghin, three leagues distant from Oran.

The lofty policy of Abdel Kader could ill brook such a glaring violation of the clear and unequivocal injunctions of the Koran. That sacred volume neither countenanced nor admitted the principle of expediency. To conquer or to die, sword in hand, for the Faith, was its uncompromising and inexorable dogma. Zealous interpreter and dauntless defender of that soul-inspiring mandate in all its heroic greatness, Abdel Kader made it his imperative duty to uphold it with ceaseless and untiring vigilance, and to visit its slightest infraction with unsparing rigour.

Independently of this superior and all-sufficient consideration, he well foresaw that if vicinity to the enemy was to be made the pretext for submission, and hardship and suffering the signal for treason, the views which he entertained for the working out of the salvation of his country would speedily be dissolved, his plans for its regeneration become illusory, and his utmost efforts for their realisation abortive. He knew that the edifice he was so laboriously erecting, thus breached at its very base, would crumble away like a rope of sand.

He considered, consequently, that to condone, to overlook, or to excuse such weakness, whatever the plea advanced, would be tantamount to abandoning the trust which had been solemnly committed into his hands, and the task which he had sworn to accomplish. The alternative presented to him might be ungracious, it might be painful; but, calm and unshaken in the purity of his conscience, firm and confiding in the goodness of his cause, he accepted it.

Whilst maintaining a bold front to the enemy, it might become incumbent on him so to act as to become an object of terror rather than of love, to hundreds, perhaps thousands, of his own countrymen. His severity might be called oppression, his exactions and punishments might be stigmatised as tyranny. But at whatever cost to the sufferers, at whatever detriment to his own popularity, he determined to make it understood and felt throughout the tribes, as a policy indispensable to the common welfare, that in him alone was vested the prerogatives of making peace, or signing conditions; he resolved, therefore, to impress on the minds of all the tribes, that if any accepted terms from the French on their own account, their last and heaviest account would be with him. The Douairs and Zmelas in due time experienced this correcting discipline.

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