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.