1839.

Marshal Valée, notwithstanding his repeated failures, determined to make one more effort to obtain Abdel Kader’s adhesion to the views taken by his Government on the disputed article. In the month of February, 1839, Commandant de Salles was sent on a mission to the head-quarters of the Sultan, who was then at Miliana. The object of his mission was to induce Abdel Kader to give his sanction and approval to the supplementary treaty, which had been signed by his enemy, Miloud-ibn-Arasch.

Although a continuation of the peace was of vital importance to Abdel Kader, in order to enable him to complete his work of organisation, yet to yield the disputed territory was to him a moral and political impossibility.

Politically it was impossible to him, because the territory in question, once ceded to the French, would have given them free means of communication between the provinces of Algiers and Constantine, and would thereby have rendered their possessions more compact, and proportionally augmented their aggresive power. Morally it was so also, because, not only was it repugnant to his own sense of honour to yield up tamely and submissively a point on which he felt himself to be in the right, but the mainstay of his hourly-increasing influence, gained by the almost magic success with which he had gradually circumscribed the French to within little more than gunshot of their own fortresses, would have been dangerously imperilled by any such concession.

He had already repeatedly pacified many anxious inquirers, by the assurance that France would never dare to overstep the limits assigned to her in the plain of Algiers. It was on the strength of this assurance that the military and religious chiefs, convoked on the Habra, had consented to the peace. Without their consent, whatever might have been his own inclinations, he was precluded from listening to any modification of the treaty.

Already, too, sinister reports and insinuations were circulated by the fanatical party that he was secretly paying tribute to the French; that the infidels had received his permission to settle on the sacred soil of Islam, and that the tolerance of such a profanation was little consistent with his lofty boast that he would, ere long, drive them all into the sea.

Placed in this delicate position, Abdel Kader resolved on again convoking all the principal personages in his kingdom, and again calling on them to arbitrate on the differences existing between him and the French Government. The French commissioner was informed of this intention, and invited to attend the meeting, with full permission to enounce his propositions. He accepted the invitation, though with small hopes that he should be able to obtain from the Sultan’s council of war, concessions which the pressure of his Government had failed to obtain from the Sultan himself.

The course of action which Abdel Kader thus adopted was, however, the only one which afforded any prospect for a peaceable adjustment of affairs. Marshal Valée had always ascribed Abdel Kader’s pertinacity to his individual pride and ambition. His feelings of irritation at the manner in which all means of accommodation had been rejected, were increased by the inward conviction that the obstacles raised were the consequence of his adversary’s personal caprice. Abdel Kader counted on his present proceeding to dispel the Marshal’s delusion, if not to induce him to adopt a change of conduct. The Marshal would discover that it was not the sentiments of an individual, but those of a whole people, with which he was contending.

The council of war met. The French envoy spoke; but the decision was unanimous: “War, rather than give up the disputed territory.” M. de Salles returned to Algiers to state the result of his mission. Abdel Kader, on his part, without waiting for further circumvolutions of policy in that direction, appealed at once to a higher quarter, and addressed the following letter to the King of the French:—

“Praise be to the One God!

“The servant of God, Il Hadj Abdel Kader, ibn Mehi-ed-deen, Commander of the Faithful, to H.M. Louis Philippe, King of the French: may his reign be long, happy, and full of glory.

“Since the foundation of Islamism, Mussulmans and Christians have been at war. For ages this was a sacred obligation on both sects; but the Christians, neglecting their religion and its precepts, have finished by looking on war merely as a means of worldly aggrandisement.

“To the true Mussulman, on the contrary, war against the Christians is merely a religious obligation; how much more so when Christians come to invade Mussulman territory! According to this principle, I deviated from the rules laid down in our sacred books, when, two years ago, I made with you, King of the Christians, a treaty of peace; and more especially when I endeavoured to consolidate this peace by every means in my power. You know the duties imposed by the Koran on every Mussulman prince; therefore you ought to give me credit for having taken upon myself to relax, as regards you, the rigour of its precepts.

“But you now demand a sacrifice from me which is too formally in contradiction with my religion to allow me to submit to it; and you are too just to impose it on me as a necessity. You call upon me to abandon tribes whose submission I have received; who came to me of themselves to pay me the imposts prescribed by the Koran, and who beseeched me, and still beseech me, to govern them. I have myself traversed their territory, which, moreover, is beyond the limits of that which the treaty reserved to France; and can you now wish, by another treaty, that I should order those tribes to submit to the yoke of the Christians?

“No. If the French are my friends, they can never desire to bring about a state of things which would lower and degrade their ally in the eyes of his people. They would not for the sake of a few miserable tribes, to govern which, themselves, or leave to others to govern, can be of very little moment to them, place me in the terrible alternative either of breaking the law, or of renouncing a peace which is so desirable for us both.

“But some may tell you that this consideration which forces me to reclaim those tribes will oblige me to reclaim the Arabs of Metija, of Oran, and of Constantine. No; for those have remained, and still remain, with the French of their own free will; and I have reserved to myself the right of giving an asylum to those amongst them who may become disgusted with Christian dominion. Whereas, the tribes in question, who are not nomad, but are attached to the soil, seek to be under my government, and are too numerous to allow of my giving them grounds in my territory equal to those they might wish to abandon.

“Great King of the French! God has appointed each of us to govern some of his creatures. You are in a position far superior to mine, by the number, power, and riches of your subjects; but on both of us he has imposed the obligation of making our people happy. Examine, then, with me our positions; and you will acknowledge that on you alone depends the happiness of both people.

“‘Sign,’ I am told by your agents; ‘or if you do not sign, your refusal will be war.’ Well, I will not sign; and yet I desire peace—nothing but peace.

“In order that a treaty should be useful to your subjects, it is necessary that I should be feared and respected by mine; for the moment they see that, according to my good pleasure, I hand them over to the administration of the Christians, they will no longer have any confidence in me, and then it will be impossible for me to make them observe the least clause in the treaty.

“How can you be compromised—you, Sultan of the French nation—by making concessions to a young Emir, whose power is now beginning to be strengthened and fortified under your shadow? Ought you not rather to protect me, to be indulgent towards me—me, who have re-established order amongst tribes which were slaying each other; who seek every day to raise in them a taste for the arts and for liberal professions? Help me, in the place of embarrassing me, and God will recompense you.

“If the war breaks out again, there will be no more commerce, which might confer such inestimable advantages on the country, and no more security for the colonists. There will be increased expenses, and diminished productions. The blood of your soldiers will be uselessly shed; it will be a partisan war to the death. I have not the folly to suppose that I can openly make head against your troops; but I can harass them without ceasing. I shall lose ground, no doubt; but then I have on my side, knowledge of the country, the frugality and hardy temperament of my Arabs, and, more than all, the arm of God, who supports the oppressed.

“If, on the contrary, you wish for peace, our two countries will be as one; the least of your subjects will enjoy the most perfect security amongst the tribes; the two peoples will intermix more and more every day; and you will have the glory of having introduced into our countries that civilisation of which the Christians are the apostles.

“You will comprehend, I am sure, what I say; you will grant me what I ask; and what I ask is this,—that you do not see in a refusal to sign a new treaty, the desire of recommencing war, but rather the wish to consolidate the basis of the old one, and to confirm a sincere friendship between our nations.

“May God inspire you with an answer worthy of your power, and the goodness of your heart.”

The almost supplicating earnestness of this simple and straightforward letter fully evinces the anxiety entertained by Abdel Kader at the aspect which affairs between himself and the French were now assuming, and his sense of the vast importance to himself of a continuation of the peace. On the 31st May, 1839, the ministry of M. Molé was overthrown. A false report had reached Algiers, that he had been replaced by M. Thiers, with Marshal Gerard as Minister of War.

Abdel Kader immediately wrote again to the king, and, at the same time, addressed two letters to the said ministers, with a power of language and a form of argument, which could only have emanated from a mind consoled and supported by the rectitude of its intention, and a firm and unshaken reliance in the justice of its cause.

Letter to the King.

“I have written you three letters, in which I gave you all my thoughts; not one of them has been honoured with an answer. They have been, doubtless, intercepted; for you are too kind and considerate not to have given me the satisfaction of knowing what were your true feelings and dispositions. May this, my last attempt, meet with better success! May this exposition of what is passing in Africa attract and fix your attention, and lead to a system which shall conduce to the welfare and happiness of the two populations whom God has confided to your care and solicitude!

“The behaviour of your lieutenants is most unjust with regard to me; and I cannot suppose that it is known to you; I have too much confidence in your justice to suppose it. Endeavours are being made to induce you to regard me as your enemy. You are imposed on; if I were your enemy, I should already have found many causes for commencing hostilities.

“Since my refusal to sign the new treaty, presented to me by M. de Salles on the part of Marshal Valée (my motives for which I have already explained to you in one of my former letters), there is no kind of injustice with which I have not been assailed by your representatives at Algiers. My soldiers have been arrested and thrown into prison without any legal cause; an order has been given not to allow the importation of any more iron, or brass, or lead, into my country; my agents in Algiers have been ill-treated by the authorities; my most important letters are answered by a simple receipt, cavalierly handed to the horseman who bears them; letters written to me from Algiers are intercepted.

“After such treatment they tell you I am your enemy. They say that I want war at any price—I who desire, in every way, to follow the example of your industrious nation—I, who in spite of these tokens of hostility, facilitate the arrival of all the productions of my country into your markets—I who surround myself with Europeans, in order to give an impetus to industry, and who issue the most stringent orders that your merchants, and even your men of science, should not only be allowed to travel all over my country in perfect security, but be received and treated with hospitality.

“But you may be told—‘The Emir has not yet fulfilled the first conditions imposed on him by the treaty of the Tafna.’ To this I reply, I have only postponed the execution of these clauses, because your representative, Bugeaud, broke, in the first place, his engagements.

“Where are all the supplies of muskets, of powder, of lead, of sulphur, which were promised to me? Why do I still see at Oran the chiefs of the Douairs and Zmelas, whose removal to France was solemnly promised me? Does Bugeaud think I have not yet in my possession the particular treaty, the only one which interests me, written out entirely in his own hand, and signed with his seal? Could I believe for an instant that written promises from the representative of the King of the French could possibly be invalid?

“I confess, I had so high an idea of the good faith of French Christians, that I was scandalised by their want of good faith, and that having had no direct communication with you, I refused to sign another treaty.

“Yes, your military deputies only wish for new combats and fresh conquests. I am certain this system is not yours. You have not descended on the shores of Africa to exterminate its inhabitants, nor to drive them from the country. You wished to bring them the benefits of civilisation. You came not to make a nation of slaves, but rather to implant amidst the people that spirit of liberty which is the most powerful lever of your own nation, and with which it has dowried so many other countries.

“Is it by the force of arms, is it by bad faith, that your agents will accomplish this end? Should the Arabs be at last convinced that you have come to attack their religion and conquer their country, their hatred will grow stronger than ever. They will break away from my control and authority, and our mutual prospects of civilisation will vanish away for ever.

“I pray and entreat you then, in the name of God, who has created us both, to try and understand a little better this young Arab, whom the Most High has placed, despite himself, at the head of a simple and ignorant people, and who is falsely represented to you as being an ambitious chief. Make him acquainted with your intentions. Above all, communicate with him directly, and his conduct will prove to you that he has been badly appreciated.

“May God grant you the light necessary to govern your people wisely.”

The letter to M. Thiers was couched in the following terms:—

“I congratulate France on your return to the ministry. The important labours which formerly signalised your presence in it, and the interest you always bear towards Algiers, make me salute you with joy.

“Your countrymen who are about me have informed me that your post is charged more especially with watching and superintending the prosperity of France. A part of Africa is become French. In speaking to you of the dangers which menace the prosperity of the two countries, I perform a duty.

“Counsellor of the King of the French, it is for your enlightenment, it is for your philanthropy, to strengthen and consolidate a peace which France and Algiers both demand.

“The despotic caprices of the agents of an honoured Government, the failures in the execution of a treaty on the one side, leading to similar failures on the other; and the greedy and unprincipled ambitions of some, who aim at new spheres of riches and emoluments, threaten to mingle French and Arab blood, when, to my belief, the real truth is, that we all long for a peace which will bring to the Arabs the precious results of progress and civilisation, and to France the glory of having conferred them.

“You are great for France—be so for Africa; and both countries will bless you. Your influence with a king, whose minister you are, and your counsels to a young Emir—entirely ignorant of the intricacies of European politics—are the materials with which you might erect a monument of glory for your own nation, and one of happiness and gratitude for mine.

“May God assist and enlighten you, and maintain you in the high position of which you are so worthy!”

The letter to Marshal Gerard was not less admirably conceived. It ran as follows:—

“As soon as I was informed that the powerful King of the French had made you Minister of War, I had reason to be rejoiced. I felt that one who has nothing to add to his military glory, could never look to the French occupation in Africa as his sole field for military distinction. One who, like you, knows how to make war, must also know how to make peace, and to enjoy its fruits.

“This peace is menaced; and wherefore? For the sake of a few leagues of ground, and a road impracticable from its natural difficulties. Has not France sufficient military glory—has it not space enough—that it should seek to acquire more at the expense of my influence over Arabs, whom I have bound myself to keep in submission?

“My religion prevents me from violating my engagements. Why, then, seek, without any necessity, to lower me in the eyes of my co-religionists by calling on me to give over and place under French administration populations, to whom it is my duty, by the injunctions of our law, to preach the holy war? Let those who would compel me to do so try to understand my religion, and the obligations which it imposes upon me; and then, perhaps, they may be inclined to give me credit for the sacrifices I am making.

“I approach you, then, to call your attention to the exactments of a local administration, which I refuse to believe can be guided in its acts by the wishes of France and of its chief. The French are too great to inspire the vexatious meannesses to which my subjects are constantly exposed in their relations with your representatives at Algiers. My dignity has obliged me to suspend these relations in part. When I saw that they were anxious enough to take the produce of our soil, but refused to supply the iron necessary for cultivating it, I said to them, ‘Sell, but buy no more; God who has given us land has also placed in our mountains all the metals which our pretended civilisers refuse us.’

“I pray to God, that your powerful influence with the king may be employed in seconding my pacific views; and that you and his noble son may, for the sake of self-information, come and visit this country, and meet with him whom you wrongly look upon as your enemy. Then your penetration and your genius, finding in me only sincerity and the desire of doing good, will assist me in moderating, either by civilisation or by arms, the fanaticism of populations who are only just beginning to appreciate the advantages of peace and industry.

“May God make your armies victorious so long as they fight in the true cause.”

These were noble words—words well worthy of being recorded. They were noble in the grandeur of their appeal—noble, as indicating the heroic struggle which rent and lacerated the breast of one conscious of his powers, burning with great designs, and painfully oscillating between a nervous anxiety to prolong a peace which would have enabled him to exhibit before the world a Mohammedan kingdom at its highest possible pitch of progress and development, and the lofty determination to abandon even this his heart’s desire, and to waive the brilliant future, if such objects could only be attained by a craven submission, however temporary, to the imperious dictates of an overbearing and unprincipled ambition.

Such appeals, it may be well imagined, were entirely thrown away on a government which, finding itself entangled in a labyrinth, and thus fettered in the realisation of its secret views, was bent on adopting any measures likely to deliver it from its embarrassing position, however inconsistent they might be with good faith.

Thus, whilst Abdel Kader was still fondly dreaming over the possible fulfilment of plans and projects, meant to harmonise and combine the requirements of Mohammedanism with the advantages of European intercourse, and the fruits of European civilisation, the subtle and powerful enemy with whom he was coping was already meditating a line of action which was destined, before long, to scatter those plans and projects to the winds.

Both parties, it is true, wished for peace; but whereas the one sought for it as a temporary expedient, the other clung to it as a vital principle. Both were bound to their respective people by pledges and obligations, from which they could not recede. Abdel Kader had vowed to keep the French at his sword’s point, in every case of unjustifiable aggression. His attitude was clear and unequivocal; it embodied the strength and the simplicity of truth.

The French Government, on the other hand, had officially and falsely declared to the Chambers, that the difficulties which had been raised about the Treaty of the Tafna had been explained to the advantage of France, and that the possession of the disputed territory was henceforth assured. The pen had easily traced such words, and the mouth had freely spoken them. But it required the sword to make good and establish this foregone conclusion.

The state of doubt and uncertainty had now reached its utmost limit. The period of compliments, of evasions, of hollow friendship, of hypocritical alliance, had passed away. The co-existence of Abdel Kader and France on the soil of Algeria was henceforth impossible. Freed from the entanglements of diplomatic garniture, the gladiators again stood face to face, ready to descend into the arena.

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.

1841-1842.

With the year 1841 commenced the real and decisive struggle. The French, with too exclusive reliance on their superiority in discipline and resources, calculated that it would terminate in a few months. Owing to the unimagined means of resistance evoked and wielded by the great chief who defied them, it was destined yet to last, with alternate vicissitudes of success, for six years.

On the 22nd of February, 1841, General Bugeaud assumed the functions of Governor-General of Algeria. Abdel Kader regarded the appointment as a hopeful presage. He would have little difficulty, he conceived, in coming to a good understanding with one who had already sanctioned and confirmed his claims to regal power. One of his most famous predecessors, Ouchba-ibn-Naifé, lieutenant of the Caliph Mouaiah, towards the close of the seventh century, after having led his victorious Arabs from Alexandria to Morocco, had signed a treaty with the Christian Emperor of Constantinople, by which he was to be paramount ruler in the interior, while the latter was to be content with holding the towns along the coast.

Such was the arrangement which Abdel Kader had always fondly hoped to see established between himself and the French Government. He thought it not impossible that the new Governor-General might be induced to support and promote such a solution of existing difficulties. Bugeaud’s first proclamation quickly undeceived him. The General therein declared that his opinions on Algerian affairs were completely changed. So far from the French occupation being limited, it was to be extended. Every rival power was to be crushed.

In truth, the French Government had at length taken the measure of their formidable adversary, and had placed 85,000 men at Bugeaud’s disposal. With such an imposing force it was anticipated that Abdel Kader would soon be beaten and driven out of the field.

But the great difficulty was not so much to defeat Abdel Kader as to overtake him. The French were stronger; but he was lighter. The former moved along beaten routes in long columns, encumbered with artillery, ambulances, and baggage. The latter seeing his enemy’s point of attack, evaded him for the moment, and then fell on him when at fault, entangled in ravines and lost amidst precipices. With the Romans, the French might truly say, “Nostros asperitas et insolentiæ loci retinebant.”

Bugeaud altered the tactics of his predecessors. Movable columns winding in various directions obliged Abdel Kader to disseminate his forces, and kept him dubious and uncertain. Heavy baggage and heavy ordnance were abandoned. Recesses hitherto unapproachable, became accessible. Even the commissariat was dispensed with.

The Arabs had one immense advantage over the French. Wherever they went they found provisions. The silos scattered over the land afforded them a never-failing resource. The French had to carry their provisions with them. The difference was serious and important. Lamoricière solved the problem. “The Arabs carry no provisions,” said that General, “why should we?” And he forthwith took the field for a month.

His men carried a few portable hand-mills. On reaching a given tract of country, they spread themselves out in skirmishing order, sometimes a league in extent. They probed the ground before them, as they advanced, with their swords and bayonets. The stones concealing the underground granaries were struck. They had been but loosely and scantily covered with earth. The silos were discovered. Razzias procured sheep. The hand-mills converted corn into flour; and thus the French troops found themselves provisioned on the very spot where they stood.

Bugeaud’s military operations were based on the double principle of conservation and aggression. The main objects of his tactics consisted in re-victualling his garrisons, which barely held their own amidst the ever-active foes surrounding them on every side; in keeping in subjection the Arab tribes who had already surrendered to his arms, by giving them an efficient organisation under French officers,—in overawing others by inexorable razzias and ruthless burning of their crops; and, lastly, in striking, without pause or cessation, at Abdel Kader’s power in all its vital parts, by occupying his strong positions, destroying his arsenals, rasing his fortresses, with the hope of forcing him back, by continual pressure, into the wilds of the Sahara.

The campaign of 1841 opened with a second re-victualling of Medea and Miliana. The losses of the French, before they effected that object, were immense. Abdel Kader disputed every inch of the ground. Bugeaud had gone to the province of Oran. From Mostaganem he led in person an expedition against Tekedemt. On reaching it, May 25th, he found it deserted and partly in flames. Boghar, Saida, and Taza, were successively destroyed.

Abdel Kader, faithful to his lately-adopted system, had determined not to waste his forces in vain attempts to defend his fortresses. He abandoned them all. His regular army was more usefully and successfully employed in harassing the French on their lines of march, or in keeping wavering tribes to their allegiance. In the new style of warfare which he was now called upon to confront, walled towns were an encumbrance to him—impediments, in fact, of which he felt glad to be relieved.

The following characteristic letter, addressed by him about this time to General Bugeaud, admirably portrays the buoyancy of spirit which animated him at a period when everything seemed to indicate his hopeless and irretrievable ruin:—

“What is that craving thus urging France, which calls itself a strong and peaceful nation, to come and make war against us? Has she not sufficient territory? What harm can all she has taken do us, compared with what still remains to us? She will advance, we will retire; but she, in her turn, will be obliged to retire; and then we shall return.

“And you, the Governor-General, what injury can you do us? In battle you lose as many men as we do. Your army is yearly decimated by disease. What compensation do you think you can offer your king and your country for your enormous losses in men and money? A tract of ground, and the stones of Mascara!

“You burn, you ravage our crops, you pillage our silos. But what signifies to us the loss of the plain of Eghrees, of which you have not ravaged even a twentieth part, when we possess so many others? The ground you take from us is but as a drop of water taken from the sea. We will fight you just when we think proper; and you know we are not cowards.

“As to our opposing the forces you drag after you, it would be folly. But we will harass them; we will wear them out; we will cut them up in detail; the climate will do the rest. Does the wave cease to rise and swell when a bird skims it? That is the image of your passage in Africa.”

The French had, indeed, already reason to shrink from the task before them. What with the losses entailed upon them by marches and counter-marches, by incessant fighting, by blasting heats, their army had nearly vanished away. Bugeaud, at the close of the year 1841, had to report, that of 60,000 men, he had only 4,000 fit for duty.

The French Government again sought relief in projects of peace. If the Emir would raise the blockade of the French garrisons, and nominally lay down his arms (it being understood, at the same time, that 30,000 stand should be secretly paid for), all his former rights would be confirmed, it said, all the territory taken from him restored. Abdel Kader laughed at the proposition. “Let the French keep the towns,” he replied. “Will the towns give them food? So long as I hold the country, and can attack and intercept their convoys, my position will still be superior to theirs.”

The very fact, that a proposal for peace had been first broached by the French themselves, confirmed Abdel Kader in his resolution to try the extremities of war. He had already twice reduced them to terms, before his fortresses and arsenals existed. The elements he then wielded still remained to him, even after the loss of these strongholds, and, in truth, were even more effective than before. The Arab tribes had been organised; they moved by a common impulse; they expanded and contracted by word of command; when least dreaded, they attacked; when pursued, they disappeared. Such was henceforth to be the formidable but ever fluctuating principle of Abdel Kader’s operations.

To break the links of this well-compacted chain, and destroy the influence which held it together, by establishing permanent centres of action in the very heart of the Arab confederation, and by rapidly consecutive expeditions radiating from these centres, to give his troops the ubiquity of the Arabs, became Bugeaud’s main object.

It was determined that the province of Oran, as the chief seat of Abdel Kader’s power, should henceforward be regarded as the principal scene of operations. Lamoricière occupied Mascara; Bedeau held Tlemsen; Changarnier watched the western frontier of the plain of Algiers; D’Aumale menaced Tittery. All these were men of promise, able, bold, enterprising, successful; but destined, at a later period, to experience the fickleness of fortune.

Three columns moving from Oran and Mostaganem were despatched to act upon the tribes occupying the vast extent of territory between the sea and the Atlas, as well as those extending towards the Sahara. The first, headed by Bugeaud in person, advanced along the valley of the Cheliff, and then made its junction with the second column under Changarnier, which had started from Blidah. The third column, commanded by Lamoricière, aimed at pushing Abdel Kader back to the south, with the view of isolating him from the tribes attacked by Bugeaud and Changarnier.

Now commenced those wonderful episodes, thrilling in their effect, sublime in their grandeur, as marvels of daring and genius, by which Abdel Kader stamped this glorious struggle in which he was engaged with the impress of his own extraordinary individuality.

Lamoricière, zealously acting up to the instructions given him, to pursue and overtake the Sultan, was always fancying himself on the traces of his object. Suddenly he heard that Abdel Kader was before Mascara. When he had contrived to arrive by forced marches at that place, he was told that Abdel Kader had passed by the rear of his column, and was making a razzia on the Borgia tribes.

Again came the pursuit, and again Abdel Kader, by a bold and rapid manœuvre, leaving his bewildered foes behind him, dashed across the Cheliff, placed himself between Bugeaud and the sea, recovered his ascendancy over the tribes who had deserted him in that direction, made another sweeping razzia to the south of Miliana, and then, rushing back to the Sahara, showed himself there in full force, just as the French had returned, in despair of finding him, to their cantonments.

By ever-recurring evolutions of this nature, slipping between the enemy’s columns, flitting in their front, hovering on their flank, falling on their rear, never at fault, never discouraged, sometimes in the mountains, sometimes in the plains, disconcerting and rendering abortive the most scientific military combinations, Abdel Kader amply compensated for the disparity of his means, and counterbalanced the manifold disadvantages under which he laboured.

Leaving to his Khalifas in Oran the duty of carrying on the desultory kind of warfare which he had so rigidly prescribed, Abdel Kader now repaired to the Traara Mountains on the frontiers of Morocco. The military skill and diplomatic aptitude of Bedeau had imposed obedience on many of the frontier tribes. Abdel Kader saw his communications with Morocco menaced, and it was from Morocco that he drew, for the most part, his arms, his clothing, his ammunition, not, as has been erroneously stated, by splendid and gratuitous grants from Sultan Abderahman, but by the ordinary course of commercial transactions.

The Kabyles of Nedrouma, once his most devoted partisans, had, amongst others, submitted to the French general. The sight of Abdel Kader amongst them at once rekindled all their former loyalty and enthusiasm. They prayed for forgiveness; they asked to be allowed to wipe out their shame on the field of glory. The Beni Snassen, and other frontier tribes, followed their example, and rallied again around his standard. These, in addition to his own regulars, gave him about 3,000 cavalry and 5,000 infantry,—a force sufficient to confront the enemy.

During the months of March and April, 1842, the hills and valleys of the Traara and Nedrouma Mountains, the banks of the Tafna and the Sickak, became the scenes of constant encounters between him and General Bedeau. The fate of the campaign still hung doubtfully in the balance, when Abdel Kader was summoned to the environs of Mascara. Despite the precautions of his brother-in-law, Mustapha-ibn-Tamy, of Il Berkani, and of Sidi Embarak, his most illustrious chiefs, Lamoricière was gaining ground. Several tribes had gone over; a large portion even of the Hashems, his own tribe, had been carried away by the contagious example. Lamoricière, imagining Abdel Kader to be sufficiently occupied by Bedeau, had extended his excursions towards the Sahara. Abdel Kader seized the opportune occasion to re-assert and enforce his power amongst the tribes who had deserted him around Mascara. But, with due discrimination, he drew a line between wilful treason and unavoidable secession. Wherever there were proofs of collusion with the French, of treasonable correspondence, of active participation, his punishments were severe and unsparing. Terrible, indeed, were, at times, the examples he made of tribes who, by their premeditated alliance with the infidel, had justly drawn down upon themselves the fearful punishment awarded by the Koran upon traitors to their religion and their God.

Lamoricière hurried back in all haste on hearing of the Sultan’s re-appearance on his own field of operations. But he had to re-conquer all the territory he had lately gained. To his surprise, tribes, which had but recently joined him, now stood coalesced against him. Fighting his way gallantly through all obstacles, he eagerly sought to measure his sword with the moving genius of this unexpected revival. He heard that Abdel Kader was in force at Tekedemt, and on Tekedemt he forthwith marched.

He arrived there, indeed, but just in time to learn that Abdel Kader had fallen on Changarnier in the direction of Miliana. That general, counting on the absence of his redoubtable foe, was there engaged in the comparatively easy task of subduing some refractory tribes. One day he found himself enveloped with an overwhelming force of Arabs and Kabyles, horse and foot, regulars and irregulars, led on by Abdel Kader in person, and rushing furiously to the combat.

For two days and nights the battle raged incessantly. The combatants engaged in deadly strife, hand to hand and foot to foot with pistols, swords, yataghans, or bayonets. Suddenly the combat ceased. Abdel Kader drew off his army and disappeared. The French had suffered too severely and were too exhausted to follow him up. Two days afterwards news reached them to the effect that Abdel Kader had dashed into the Metija, was ravaging the plains, and carrying terror to the very gates of Algiers.

Bearing away to his right, after performing this exploit, Abdel Kader ascended the Atlas, penetrated to the Ouarensis, beyond Tittery, and reached the Sahara. Everywhere he occupied himself in arousing populations, inspiriting tribes, and organising contingents. After sweeping over a space of some three hundred leagues, he returned, with recruited forces and increased energy, to press upon the garrison of Mascara, under Lamoricière, with all the rigours of a winter blockade.

Notwithstanding all these incredible and in some measure successful efforts, which were now, more than ever, necessary to sustain him in his arduous and double task of thwarting the designs of his formidable enemies from without, and of curbing the fast-spreading spirit of defection within, Abdel Kader began to feel that he was struggling with adverse fortune. All his fixed establishments had been invaded and destroyed. The ketna, his ancestral abode, had been ravaged and laid waste. The members of his own family were outcasts. More than all, the families of his most faithful adherents were constantly exposed, despite all his vigilance, to rude visits from detested strangers, clothed in uncouth garb, the soldiers of the infidel, who violated the sanctity of the harem with heartless mockery and vindictive malice.

Feelings of religion and humanity urgently compelled him to take measures to meet the exigencies of such a painful and trying emergency. He determined to remove altogether from the scene of war those whom it was impossible for him to desert, and whom in the hour of need he might be unable to rescue. He formed his Smala.

This new and singular organisation was simply an agglomeration of private hearths. To the Smala as to a common asylum and place of security, the Arab tribes sent their treasures, their herds, their women, their children, their aged and their sick. It became an immense moving capital, amounting to more than 20,000 souls. It followed the Sultan’s movements, advancing to the more cultivated districts, or retreating to the Sahara, according to the fluctuations of his fortunes.

When in the Sahara, the numerous tents of the Smala were lost in the distant horizon. When in the Tell, they filled up the valley, and covered the slopes of the mountains. It was arranged with military regularity. The deiras, or households, with their tents varying in number according to the respective strength of each, were distributed into four large encampments. Each deira knew its place. Each chief had his station marked and his functions appointed, according to his importance or the confidence he inspired.

Abdel Kader spared no pains to encourage and popularise a system of emigration, which daily increased from the strongest of human impulses, and thus gradually and imperceptibly bound the Arab tribes to him by the strongest of human ties. Four tribes were set apart to watch, protect, and guide the Smala in its wanderings. A body of regulars kept guard over it. Jews were expressly commissioned to advance sums of money to the needy.

Ultimately, indeed, the Smala became a powerful check on the disaffection of the tribes. For when the French, alluring them with fair promises, said to them, “Come over to us, we will protect you,” an invisible voice whispered in their ears, “I have your women, your children, your flocks, beware!” Thus, an establishment, which was at first constituted by Abdel Kader as a measure of domestic arrangement, became in his hands a vast and widely extended political engine.