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.