Part 7

An eye-witness has described the attitude of the population. “Algiers,” he says, “on the entry of the French, did not present the sad and desolate aspect of a conquered town. The shops were closed, but the traders, seated quietly before their doors, seemed to await the moment for opening them. You met here and there groups of Turks and Moors who appeared more indifferent than alarmed. A few veiled Mohammedan women could be seen peering through the narrow windows of their dwellings; Jewish women with greater boldness filled the terraces of their houses without exhibiting any surprise at the novel spectacle. Our soldiers threw everywhere eager and curious glances, and all they saw filled them with astonishment at a city where no one seemed astonished at their presence. The resignation to the will of God which is so profoundly graven on the spirit of the Mussulman, the sentiment of France’s power, and her well-known generosity, all made for confidence; and it was soon established.”[3] With such ease and light-heartedness did France enter, on her career of African conquest. Her troubles were to come.

Footnote 3:

Pelissier de Reynaud, “Annales Algériennes.”

The policy to be pursued was the first of them. The expedition had achieved its punitive object, Algeria appeared to be poor and sterile, and there was much to be said for abandoning it altogether. At the other extreme was the proposal to attempt a complete and definite conquest. A middle course was adopted,—to occupy only certain important points on the coast and in the interior. It is easy to be wise after the event; our own colonial experience is full of evidence of the futility of half-measures; and we need not claim much perspicacity for observing that France missed the golden opportunity for occupying the country when the central Government, such as it was, had been destroyed. But, for all the brave words of the truculent admiral, she doubtless felt some diffidence in view of her declaration to Europe, and the continued hostility of Great Britain was not without its effect. France’s own political position, too, was in a very disordered condition. On the 18th of August a revolution took place, Louis Philippe was proclaimed King and Bourmont was recalled.

For the next ten years, from 1830 to 1840, what was known as the policy of Restricted Occupation was pursued. Certain ports on the coast were occupied—Oran, Bougie, Bône, etc.—and attempts were made to bring the plain of the Metidja under French control by placing garrisons in such towns as Medea and Blidah. The army of occupation was much reduced, and Clauzel, the general in command, endeavoured to raise native auxiliary troops, with small success. He was, at any rate, a master of bombast. Having occupied Blidah and ascended one of the passes of the Atlas, he addressed his troops: “Soldats! les feux de nos bivouacs qui, des cimes de l’Atlas, semblent dans ce moment se confondre avec la lumière des étoiles, annoncent à l’Afrique la victoire que vous venez de remporter,” etc. This pronouncement was followed by the withdrawal of the garrison and a hasty retreat to Algiers. Early in 1831 Clauzel was recalled. His successors, Berthezène, the duc de Rovigo and Voirol, essaying a great undertaking with inadequate means, had no better fortune.

Under Voirol General Desmichels was sent to Oran with the object of establishing order in the west. The tribes were in arms, and at their head-quarters at Mascara had chosen as their general a celebrated marabout, or holy man, named Mahi-ed-Dine, who, having attacked Oran several times without success, resigned the command to his son, Abd-el-Kader, then only twenty-four years of age, but destined to become one of the greatest leaders of modern times. He was, says Camille Rousset, “of middle height, but well made, vigorous and untiring. He was the best among the best horsemen in the world. Physical qualities are highly valued by the Arabs; Abd-el-Kader had more—the qualities which make men conquerors: intelligence, sagacity, strength of will, genius to command. In eloquence he was the equal of the greatest orators, and could bend crowds to his will. He spoke in serious and measured tones, and was sparing of gesture, but his pale face was full of animation, and under their long dark lashes his blue eyes darted fire.” It may be remarked that the blue eyes point to a Berber, rather than an Arab origin. Such was the man who for years to come was to bid defiance to the French.

Their first dealings with him were unfortunate. Desmichels arrived at Oran in the spring of 1833. Finding that he could make no headway against Abd-el-Kader, who from his capital of Mascara was preaching a holy war for the extermination of the infidels, he concluded with him a treaty which enormously increased the Arab’s authority. Abd-el-Kader was described in it as Emir; all practical power was placed in his hands; and he was permitted to purchase arms and ammunition in French towns. No mention was made of French sovereignty. The treaty, though contrary to the instructions of the French Government, was accepted by it in the belief that it assured peace. Difficulties soon arose. Desmichels was recalled; his successor, Trezel, at the head of a column of 1700 men, was attacked by Abd-el-Kader in the marshes of La Macta, and defeated with the loss of a third of his force.

The prestige of this victory brought many waverers to the Arab leader’s flag. But France’s disaster brought home to her the seriousness of the position, and in the end the defeat did more towards the ultimate conquest than a victory would have done.

Clauzel, who had left Africa almost in disgrace in 1831, was sent back in full command in 1835. He alone of the French generals had exhibited any military qualities. His grandiose projects have been justified by events. His main plan consisted in occupying Mascara and Tlemçen in the west, Medea and Miliana in the centre, and Constantine in the east. Of Tlemçen and Constantine he said, “Si vous n’occupez pas ces deux Gibraltar de la Régence d’Alger, vous n’en serez jamais les maîtres.” His failure was due to his attempt to effect these objects with the inadequate means with which he was supplied. He commenced by advancing against Abd-el-Kader, who retired before him. Having occupied Mascara and Tlemçen, he returned to Algiers, whereupon Tlemçen was promptly besieged by the Arabs. At this point the great Frenchman, destined to overthrow the Arab power and to conquer Algeria, appeared on the scene. General Bugeaud was sent to command in the west. He was personally opposed to conquest, and regarded French intervention in Algeria not only as having been badly conducted, but as initially a mistake. These views did not prevent him from putting his hand to the plough. He began by revolutionizing the methods of warfare; in spite of the opposition of his officers, he dispensed with heavy trains of baggage and artillery, lightened the loads of the soldiers, and carried their provisions on mules. Attacking Abd-el-Kader at La Sikkah he inflicted on him a signal defeat, his native auxiliaries pursuing the flying enemy with fury and slaughtering them in great numbers. Bugeaud then returned to France.

Meantime Clauzel, having had some success in the neighbourhood of Algiers, attacked Constantine, but was ignominiously repulsed, and was recalled. The city fell the following year to General Valée. In 1837 Bugeaud was sent back to Oran, with instructions to make terms with Abd-el-Kader on the basis of surrendering to him the province of Oran in consideration of his recognizing the sovereignty of France and paying tribute. The two leaders met and negotiated the treaty of the Tafna. It was all in the Arab’s favour; the tribute fixed was nominal, the sovereignty question ignored. In native eyes Abd-el-Kader became a veritable monarch, his territory was assured to him and he had leisure to gather his forces for a further struggle. We must suppose either that Bugeaud’s private preferences carried him away, or that the situation in the west was too desperate to warrant his insisting on better terms. For two years peace reigned, but in 1839 Abd-el-Kader proclaimed a holy war. Arabs and Khabyles invaded the Metidja and burnt the farms of the French colonists. Hostilities lasted for two years with no decisive result. In October, 1840, the Governor-General, Valée, was recalled, and Bugeaud was sent out in supreme command to inaugurate a new policy.

The half-hearted efforts of ten years were at an end, _l’occupation restreinte_ was to give way to _l’occupation totale_. France set herself at all cost to occupy effectively the whole territory of Algeria up to the desert. She had missed her chance at first. “Occasion,” says Bacon, “(as it is in the common verse), turneth a bald Noddle, after she hath presented her locks in Front and no hold taken.” The unwise temporizing with Abd-el-Kader had enormously increased the difficulties of the position. But there was to be no more dalliance.

Bugeaud was one of those born leaders to whom the exigencies of the occasion are more important than military tradition. To seek the enemy’s force and to destroy it was for him a leading principle, as it has been for our great naval commanders. He abolished the garrisons of his predecessors, and substituted for them mobile columns. He believed, and proved, that the manœuvres of such columns were far more effective, even for the protection of colonized districts, than the occupation of definite points. In the main he relied on infantry, supported by a light and very mobile artillery. The _a priori_ view that cavalry is necessary to meet a mounted enemy found in his operations no support, however useful it may be for surprises and pursuit. Can it be that the famous telegram to our Colonies at the beginning of the last South African War,—“infantry preferred,”—was due to a statesman’s study of the memoirs and correspondence of Marshal Bugeaud?

He even conceived the idea of mounted infantry, mounting his men on mules or camels as occasion served. He prohibited the use of waggons for baggage and provisions, and dared, in spite of the indignant protests of his cavalry officers, to use the troop horses to carry rice and corn. Sprung himself from the ranks,—he had fought as a corporal of the guard at Austerlitz,—he understood the soldier’s needs, powers and limitations; and was in turn trusted and beloved,—_le père Bugeaud_ he was affectionately called. Such was the man who was to win for France her African empire.

It is unnecessary to recount the details of the long duel between Bugeaud and Abd-el-Kader. Step by step the Arab leader was driven from the fertile regions to the high plateaux, and with every reverse his authority over the tribesmen waned, even if his own resource and resolution never failed. A severe blow was dealt in the spring of 1843. Abd-el-Kader had established a vast caravan, known as the _smalah_, comprising the families of his forces, their flocks and herds, and a crowd of non-combatants who abandoned their homes and followed his fortunes rather than submit to the foreigner. It was, as Bugeaud said, “la capitale ambulante de l’empire arabe.” It was reputed to contain 40,000 persons, defended by 5000 combatants. The young Duc d’Aumale, son of Louis Philippe, was charged with its capture. Having located its position at Taguine, he attacked it with a force of 600 horse, without waiting for his infantry, consisting of 1300 men. The suddenness of his onslaught broke down all resistance; the defenders fled, leaving much booty and many thousand prisoners in the hands of the French. For some months more Abd-el-Kader continued to make a futile resistance, but finally fled to Morocco. In July Bugeaud received the fitting acknowledgment of his success, and was named Marshal of France.

France now came into conflict with the Empire of Morocco,—the commencement of a page of history still unfinished. The Sultan, perhaps against his own inclinations, was compelled by the sympathies of his people to espouse the cause of the Arab leader. His son led an army of 40,000 men to the frontier. Bugeaud, with a force of 8000, met him on the banks of the Isly. The night before the battle Bugeaud addressed his officers, who were assembled at “un punch” to welcome some comrades arrived from France: “With our little army of 6500 bayonets and 1500 horses I am going to attack the army of the Prince of Morocco, which amounts, according to my information, to 60,000 horsemen. I would the number were double, or thrice as great, for the greater would be its disorder and disaster. I have an army; he has only a mob. And I will explain to you my order of attack. I give my little force the form of a wild boar’s head. The right tusk is Lamoricière; the left tusk, Bedeau; the snout is Pelissier; and I am between the ears. Who can stop our penetrating power? Ah! my friends, we will cut our way into the Moorish army as a knife cuts butter.”

This new eve of Austerlitz was followed on the morrow by an overwhelming victory. By midday the Moors were in flight and their camp of a thousand tents, with all their artillery, was captured. The bombardment of Tangier and Mogador by the Prince de Joinville assisted to bring the Sultan to his senses, and peace was concluded by the Treaty of Tangier.

But the troubles of the French were not over. In 1845 the indomitable Abd-el-Kader, having recruited 2000 men in the Sahara, appeared in the west and raised the whole province of Oran; farms were burnt, crops destroyed and bridges thrown down. Bugeaud, recalled from France, set himself to make an end. He collected a force of 100,000 men, divided into eighteen columns. A mighty hunt began. Abd-el-Kader was everywhere in turn. As ubiquitous as De Wet, he was now in the Tell, now in the high plateaux, now endeavouring to raise the mountaineers of Khabylia. But the end was inevitable. The tribesmen whom, having raised, he left to their chastisement, grew weary of the process. “You are like the gad-fly,” they said to him, “which arouses the bull. When you have done your work of irritation you disappear, and it is we who bear the brunt of the blows.” After a fruitless effort to obtain fresh aid from Morocco, he was captured on the frontier by Lamoricière and sent to France. He was subsequently allowed to retire to Syria, where he lived on a pension paid by the French Government till his death in 1883. He left a name venerated by his countrymen and respected by his conquerors. The French have had to face serious insurrections since, but no native leader has arisen to repeat the exploits or rival the fame of Abd-el-Kader.

Bugeaud was more than a great soldier; he was a statesman and a colonizer. He chose as his motto, “Ense et aratro.” He held that, except as a forerunner to the plough, it was useless to draw the sword. The military and civil control of a subject population, such as the English rule in India, and in recent days the _pax Gallica_ of the Sahara, may be an excellent undertaking for a people of super-abundant energies; for Bugeaud the conquest of Algeria was only a necessary preliminary to its organization as a French colony. “La conquête,” he said in his first proclamation, “serait stérile sans la colonisation. Je serai donc colonisateur ardent, car j’attache moins de gloire à vaincre dans les combats qu’à fonder quelque chose d’utile et de durable.”

The French invasion brought in its train a number of civilians. They were perhaps rather adventurers than of the stuff from which successful colonists are made. And the task before them was a stern one. The breaking of the soil was the first difficulty. It was covered with brushwood and dwarf palms, and its clearance involved much painful toil. There were no roads; even in the Metidja, close to Algiers, no means of communication but the mule paths; and no bridges. It is said that the journey to Blidah, which you may now cover in an hour or two, took four days. The country was most insecure; troops of bandits continually descended on the cultivated plains and robbed and murdered the colonists. Perhaps the greatest trouble of all was the prevalence of fever, especially in the Metidja. “The cemeteries,” said a general, “are populated faster than the villages.” Later the spread of cultivation diminished its virulence, and the use of quinine provided a remedy. It is said that absinthe was used by French soldiers as a febrifuge,[4] and that they took back to their homes a habit which has become so widespread. A treatise might be written on the influence of war on fashions in drink. The introduction of champagne into England is said to be due to the English officers who had discovered its virtues in Paris at the time of Bonaparte’s downfall.

Footnote 4:

See “Notes and Queries,” February 25th and March 4th, 1911.

The Holy War of 1839 had extinguished the feeble flicker of French colonization. The colonists were removed to Algiers for safety; and the Arabs pillaged and burnt their farms. The land reverted to barbarism. Bugeaud set himself to repair this damage, and to place colonization on a firmer basis. His idea was that the state should prepare the way by granting land under certain conditions of military service, that it should make careful selection among applicants for grants, and should provide funds for preliminary works,—roads, wells and farm-buildings. This system was partially carried out, and has been justified by success. In spite of many troubles and setbacks, a constantly increasing area has been brought under cultivation. In 1854 the cultivation of cereals occupied about two million acres; in 1861 it had risen to five millions; in 1885 to seven millions. Since that date the total has not sensibly increased, but methods have improved and the yield is greater. It is said that on the whole agriculture in Algeria is more progressive than in France. And as he traverses Algeria’s interminable cornfields, the traveller may be disposed to render homage to the great soldier who, personally averse from conquest, drew the sword to establish peace, and strove to bring plenty in her train.

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_VI—TLEMÇEN THE HOLY_

Western Algeria—Sidi Bel Abbès—The Foreign Legion—A city of learning—Its inhabitants—The Mosque of Aboul Hassan—Mansoura—Its story—Sidi Bou Medine—Oran—Spanish immigrants.

“A city dreaming of her ancient pride Amid the orchards on her mountain-side; Do you sleep sound, O saint that shares her fame, While stranger horsemen through her portals ride?”

Far to the west, beyond Oran, and close to the frontiers of Morocco, lies a hill city, once the seat of empire and of learning, but now sunk to the condition of a provincial town. Yet Tlemçen has occupied so high a position in the Mohammedan world, and the reputation of its existing monuments is so widespread, that the enterprising traveller will desire to visit it. The distance from Algiers is great, some 800 miles there and back, and as there is little of interest on the road, a journey by motor-car is not inviting. It is perhaps better to make use of the excellent train service between Algiers and Oran. If you leave Algiers at nine p.m., you may change about six a.m. at a junction a little short of Oran and reach Tlemçen about eleven. Or you may go on to Oran and hire a motor-car for the remaining 110 miles, which it will cover faster than the train does. In any case it is a tiresome journey. The road and the rail alike rise through a series of great plains divided by rocky steps, and chiefly devoted to corn-growing. The country is very bare and very uninteresting. There are few trees. It is said to have been once well wooded, but, although the Arab will take care of a tree near his house or his mosque, he has no regard for trees in general. So countless generations of browsing goats have made an end of the woods. One cannot but think that more attention to re-afforesting would meet with its reward.

Here, as elsewhere in Algeria, both in the plain and on the mountain side, the traveller will notice a number of square whitewashed buildings, surmounted by a cupola. They are known by the name of _koubba_, and are generally the tomb of a marabout or saint, and serve as objects of pilgrimage and much local veneration.

At Sidi Bel Abbès, a town of 25,000 inhabitants, about half of whom are Spaniards, are the head-quarters of the famous Foreign Legion. The very name of this corps stirs memories of forlorn hopes and dare-devil enterprises. The inimitable Ouida, whose disregard of the grammatical niceties of her own and other tongues was a generation ago the delight of undergraduates; who could say of her high-born hero that he ignored the proud motto of his haughty race, _Pro patria et rege_, and acted on the principle, _Pro ego_; Ouida has pictured for us after her own fashion, in “Under Two Flags,” the life of a foreign adventurer in the French service during the earlier days of the occupation. The picture, if imaginative in details, is full of life, and it is no doubt true that many broken men of gentle birth and upbringing found in the campaigns on the verge of the Sahara an outlet for energies for which civilization had no use. To-day the Legion is composed largely of Alsatians, Germans and Poles, and is celebrated for its band. But it is still to the fore when stern work is on foot. The situation of Sidi Bel Abbès renders it very convenient in the event of trouble with Morocco, which is constantly recurring. The town and its environs are an agreeable exception to the surrounding country in being pleasantly wooded. The olive trees are most carefully pruned, all the centre branches being cut out, and the outer ones trained to form a cup. This system admits light and air to the fruit, and facilitates the gathering of the crop.

Within a few miles of Tlemçen the scenery becomes more bold. The train climbs on to and encircles a rugged mountain range, traverses a great ravine, down which roars a graceful cascade, and emerges from a short tunnel into the noise and hubbub of Tlemçen station. The high road takes another course. It skirts the base of the rocky hills, and boldly ascends direct to the town, offering pleasant views of its walls and minarets. This is the habit of roads and railroads in many lands; the road approaches boldly to a frontal attack; the railroad creeps in stealthily or remains diffidently outside. So does the traveller by rail too often miss the beauty of the incoming.