SOLDIERS SAVAGE AND CIVILIZED--LÉGIONNAIRES AND SPAHIS
Algeria is guarded by an army of 60,000 men. But they keep the peace
only, for there is no warfare in Algeria or Tunisia to-day. In the days
of the Roman legions less than half that number of men fought for and
held all North Africa. France recognizes that the development of a new
country depends more upon the military than all else. The Spahis, the
_Chasseurs d'Afrique_, and the _Légionnaires_ have won most of France's
battles in Algeria; and for this reason these great colonial corps are
given a high place in the military establishment.
When they have fought they have fought well, and when they have died
they have died gloriously. The last "little affair" was in 1903, when a
hundred Spahis and horsemen of the Legion were attacked at El-Moungar,
near the Moroccan frontier. They fought like lions until reinforcements
arrived, and but thirty odd remained alive. Among the _Légionnaires_ who
died were a Spanish captain and a German lieutenant, for the _Légion
Étrangère_ demands nothing of any who would enlist in its ranks but his
name and an affirmative to the question--"Will you fight?" The survivors
of this engagement all received the _Médaille Coloniale_ and the Saharan
Clasp.
Now a more important move in the military game is being played across
the frontier in Morocco itself, and 12,000 of Algeria's native soldiery
is cast for the chief rôle. The soldiers of the Foreign Legion are of
all nationalities under the sun. Some of them are scoundrels, no doubt,
or were until military discipline made them brace up, but others are as
refined as the gentleman and officer of convention.
We met many Italians, Swiss, Germans, and Irishmen, and the Germans were
not Alsatians, either, but real _Platt-deutsch_, from Bremen. In more
than one instance they had been drummed out of their own regiment for
some disgrace and enlisted anew in France's _Légion Étrangère_ that they
might begin life over again. The real soldier of fortune exists nowhere
in so large a proportion as in this corps.
Certain of the French troops in Africa are not usually the flower of
the army, often they are _disciplinaires_ sent out from home. At any
rate when you see one of them robbing a poor peanut merchant who
solicited him to buy _dis nois poeur uné sous_, you are quite ready to
believe he needs disciplining. The Arab under such circumstances gives
the _tou-tou_ a tongue-lashing, which for invective could hardly be
equalled: "_Infamous belly of a snake_," "_Canaille_," "_Sale yondi,
where is your politeness_," "_Ouf, I'll ram another handful down your
camel throat and charge you nothing, either--salop de cochon!_" The Arab
is fast becoming Frenchified, as the above will indicate.
The next minute the seller of _cacaoettes_--which is a prettier name for
peanuts than we have--turns to you calmly and says humbly: "_Pardon,
Sidi, will you buy some nuts?_" And you buy them, ten sous worth, which
is enough money in hand to keep him for twenty-four hours, just because
he is so good an actor.
The sixty odd thousand regular soldiery in Algeria are virtually
military police and civil engineers. The Arab-Berber population are no
more likely to revolt, though they did it successfully enough in 1871,
when France thought she had them subdued; and so, as a sort of police
precaution, France keeps a very active army on the spot. If a nation
possesses a vast territory, it must be policed somehow, and this is the
French idea of doing it, for in the above number are counted the
_gendarmerie_ or national police.
One romantic character stands out plainly in the history of Algeria in
these later years, and that is Yusuf, the name of the ideal native
soldier who was a prodigious figure of the early nineteenth century. His
personality was most strange. Bearer of an Arab name, he was the
personification of a chivalrous military heroism consecrated to a
country not his own; and France, contrary to her usual procedure, has
seemingly neglected his fame and that of his descendants.
It was to Yusuf, in effect, that was due the security of the environs of
Algiers from the conquest of 1833 to the extinction of the revolt of
1871. From the first landing of General Bourmont, the deliverer of
Algeria, Yusuf was employed in every possible capacity; and the ancient
slave of the Turkish ruler and the favourite of the Bey of Tunis became
the symbol of law and progress. His _sabre_ was henceforth to be used
for Christianity, and not on behalf of paganism and rapine. Yusuf at the
head of his Spahis is a noble and imposing figure of the African
portrait gallery. He is almost invariably young, splendid of form and
fastidious and luxurious in his dress; a superb romantic dream of the
Orient, but adaptable and capable of absorbing European ideas.
Authors, artists, and princes have attempted to idealize Yusuf, but the
task was futile. Louis-Philippe, Louis Bonaparte, Alexandre Dumas,
Gautier, Horace Vernet, Delacroix, and Bugeaud have sung his praises
afar; but he remains to-day the unspoiled, faithful servant of a
government and faith as foreign to his own as the red Indian is to the
Parisian.
Homage! Frenchmen and Algerians, and all others who know and love the
land which smiles so bravely under the African sun, to Yusuf the
warrior, the diplomat, and _chien fidèle_!
The Spahis, or native soldiery, made up from the Yusufs of all Algeria,
are in great repute with their European officers, whatever the
bureaucrats of the Boulevard Saint Germain may think. To the former he
has:
"La main toujours ouverte,
Le sabre toujours tiré,
Une seule parole,"
and he is obedient to his superiors. This is a good formula upon which
to mould a soldier.
The Spahis and Turcos of Algeria fought for France, too, on the
mainland, in that unhappy and unnecessary "woman's war" with Germany in
1871. The Germans protested against the employment of these "savages;"
but the precept was England's when she enlisted the red man against the
North American colonist in 1776, and then, too, she hired Hessians for
the job (who were Germans) and according to the traditionary tales
concerning those mercenaries, they came about as near being "savages" as
anything which ever walked on two feet.
The "Chanson du Spahi" is a classic in the land. It recounts in dulcet
French phrase the whole life of one of these noble native soldiery
enlisted in the ranks of the French army organization.
It is a veritable Odyssey, commencing with:--
"J'e'tais jeune, le cadet dans la tente de mon père.
Le cadet de ses fils beaux comme des lions,"
and ending with:--
"Qui pleurera sur la tombe du soldat orphelin."
The Spahi's costume is fearfully and wonderfully made. It is gorgeous
beyond that of
[Illustration: A Capitan of Spahi]
any other soldiery; and yet it is most suitable for campaigning after
the Spahi fashion. The waving burnous, the _haïk_, the broidered vest,
the turban wound with camel's-hair, red boots, and much gold braid make
the Spahi dazzling to behold.
When it comes to the accoutrements of his horse the same thing is true.
His saddle is a veritable seat, not a mere pad, and weighs ten times as
much as a European saddle, his stirrups alone weighing as much. Instead
of a single blanket, the Spahi trooper has a half a dozen variegated
saddle-cloths, very spectacular, if not useful.
The barracks of the native soldiers in Algeria are bare, but with
European fitments of iron bedsteads, etc. The religion of the Mussulman
does not demand, nor indeed permit pictures or images of his God; and
so, any substitute for the _ikons_ of the Russian, and the crucifixes of
the French soldier are absent.
In Algeria, besides the Spahis and the _tirailleurs_, each so
picturesque whenever grouped with the North African landscape, there is
a special field force of men from the south, pure Arab types, men of the
desert, and scouts of the very first rank. All these military types are
what is defined as native voluntary soldiery, the _indigène_ not being
subject to military conscription. Perhaps they are the better soldiers
for this, since they adopt it voluntarily as a profession, but a
discussion of the subject is not one of sufficient moment to take space
here.
[Illustration: SOME NATIVE SOLDIERY]
Each tribe of the south--whose civil administration, be it recalled, is
in the hands of the native Sheik and the Cadi--is bound to furnish, at
the need of the French government, whether for service within the limits
of Algeria or out of it, a group of a certain proportionate size of
able-bodied fighting men. These voluntary fighters of the open country,
known as _goums_, are versed in many of the wiles of warfare of which
the garrison-trained soldier is ignorant; and, upon a simple
requisition, the chief of a tribe is bound to furnish his quota of these
plainsmen. It is a duty owed to the French government for the protection
and lawful status which it gives each individual tribe and its members;
and this soldiery is not only voluntary, but serves, without salary,
drawing only munitions of war and nourishment from the public war-chest,
and furnishing even its own horses and guns.
The _goum_ is a picturesque and original type of soldier. He rides a
stocky Arabian horse, gaily caparisoned with a gaudy parti-coloured
harness and saddle-cloth, and sits in a high-backed saddle, as if on a
throne. His costume is fascinating, if crude, in the flowing lines of
his burnous, his boots of bright red or yellow leather, and his great
high-crowned straw hat, like no other form of head-gear on earth except
the Mexican's _sombrero_. He is proud of his occupation, and would
rather fight than eat, at least one judges that this is the case in
that he fights for France without pay.
The _goums_ are a sort of savage soldiery, if you like to think of them
as such, but they are not _guerillas_. Their efficacy in various little
wars has been tried and tried again; and, recently, in Morocco, the
first successful raids into the open country of the fanatical Moroccans
were only made possible by the lances of a column of _goums_ which only
the day before had landed at Casablanca from the steamer from Oran.
Regular soldiery has to get acclimated when fighting in a new and
untried country, but the _goum_ of the Sud-Algerien got down to business
immediately in Morocco and gave the French a firm grasp on things,
whilst the regular troops, also imported from the plains of Algeria,
were getting used to the mountains, and the garrison troops of
Tizi-Ouzou were trying to adapt themselves to the mode of life necessary
for good health in a seaport town. The ways of most War Departments in
moving troops about from one strategic point to another have ever been
erratic, and that of the French is no exception. The _goum_ of Algeria
saved the day for France in Algeria, and perhaps by the time these lines
are printed will
[Illustration: A Goum]
have added another gem to the colonial diadem of France. If not so soon,
why later on.
There is a current story in military circles in Algeria concerning the
gift of an Arab chief to a French general commanding a division. It was
not gold or jewels or goods of any kind, but a simple, secret
admonition: "_Never trust an Arab--not even me._" With variations this
may be true enough, but the average traveller among these now loyal
French citizens will have no cause to regret any little confidences he
may commit to a friendly Arab or Berber; though, of the two, the latter
being certainly the more faithful.
The railway, the telegraph, and the military have developed Algeria to
what it is to-day. The Arab originally did not love the French, indeed
he had no cause to, for they came and overran his country and put down
abuses which he did not wish to have put down; but he has become
philosophical, and has recognized that the iron horse forms a better
means of transport than his mules and camels for the stuffs and goods of
his trade and barter. He is commercial enough to want to do more
business and make more money, so he tolerates the French; and, since his
first experiences with the new order of things, he has prospered beyond
his wildest dreams. That has civilized and subdued the Arab in French
Africa. It would subdue any savage.
The _fantasia_ is the classic diversion and showing-off pace of
Algeria's Spahi cavalry. No great function, local or otherwise, is
complete without a _fantasia_, and here the Spahi is at his uncontrolled
best. He rides dashingly around the field of the manoeuvres, slashing
with his sword at a leathern dummy of a man or a wooden ball on the top
of a post, or with his stocky carbine shoots from the saddle, leaps
hurdles, or throws his firearm high in the air and catches it again on
its fall. All the time his charger is rushing about wildly and without
method. The whole is a veritable military orgie of target-shooting,
steeplechasing, marching and countermarching, and all with as
picturesque a personnel and costuming as a circus.
It is mimic savage warfare uncontrolled, and far more real and warlike
than the goose-step evolutions of European armies. The fantasia is a
spontaneous, every-man-on-his-own sort of an affair. The smell of
gunpowder is in the air, and no Wild West or Cossack horseman ever gave
half so vivid an example of agility as does a Spahi or a _goum_ on his
African _jour de fête_.