CHAPTER XVI.

AN INTERVIEW WITH THE BEY.

The Bardo Palace, or official abode of the Beys of Tunis, is in reality

a walled town, surrounded by a ditch, about two miles from the gates of

Tunis. It has evidently existed ever since the time of the Spaniards,

for the name is clearly a corruption of the Spanish Pardo—a royal domain

just outside Madrid. The Bardo contains a bazaar, a mosque, and a

Turkish bath, the three outward and visible signs of all Tunisian

cities, both great and small, besides a hall of justice, two audience-

chambers, a quadrangle usually known as the Court of Lions, the public

offices, a series of dungeons for political offenders, and an enormous

_seraglio_, behind the latticed windows of which European gaze has never

penetrated. No Bey of Tunis has ever been known to inhabit the palace of

his predecessor, and each occupant of the throne has generally built a

pleasant place for his residence according to his own devices. Ahmed Bey

lived far away in the Zaghouán plain, while his successor preferred to

enjoy the cool breezes of the Mediterranean amongst the palm groves and

vineyards of the Marsa under the shade of the Carthage hills. For

several years Muhamed es Sadek “avoided the evil eye,” by transferring

his court to the half-ruinous Bardo enclosure, in which some of his

ministers now built convenient dwelling-houses. One of them, Sy Ismael

Sunni, purchased a plot of ground in the smiling Manouba plain just

outside the Bardo _fosse_, and erected a four-storied mansion after the

fashion of an Italian barrack or English workhouse, which he called

inappropriately enough the Kasr-es-Said, or the “abode of felicity.” Sy

Ismail did not live to see the orange gardens blossom round his new

house, for in 1867 he was accused of participation in the romantic

rebellion of the Bey’s brother, Sidi Adel, was dragged from the gilded

apartments of Kasr-es-Said to the executioner’s chamber in the Bardo,

and there strangled with a silken cord. Muhamed es Sadek confiscated the

property of his dead minister, and removed his _penates_ from the gloomy

old _seraglio_ of his ancestors to the more cheerful palace on the other

side of the ditch. Kasr-es-Said has proved almost as unfortunate for the

prince as it did for his servant. The very room in which Sy Ismail Sunni

struggled with his captors, has now witnessed the extinction of even the

remaining shadow of Tunisian independence. It was in Kasr-es-Said that

the last “possesseur du royaume de Tunis” became a vassal of France.

In April 1881, both the Bey and his Prime Minister were living in the

Kasr-es-Said Palace, the only picturesque feature of which is the great

garden of roses, jessamine, and orange-trees, in the midst of which it

stands. The wide expanse of stucco façade is almost blinding in the

sunlight, as one approaches the entrance by an avenue of palm and pepper

trees, and above the roof floats the green, red, and orange-coloured

silk banner, bearing as a device the golden two-bladed sword of the

Hassanite dynasty. It was thus that I saw Kasr-es-Said on the 23d April

1881. Muhamed es Sadek was anxious that people in England should be

acquainted with his troubles, and he asked me to come to the palace

early on the morning in question. The only sign of the impending crisis

was the entire desertion of the _bureaux_ at the Bardo, which were left

in undisputed possession of General Musalli and one or two of his

subordinates. Ministers and employés now crowded the ante-rooms of Kasr-

es-Said, the Council of State held perpetual session in one of the

drawing-rooms, and the corridors were thronged with Tunisian officers

and Arabs from the interior. The department of Foreign Affairs had

temporary quarters in a little chamber on the ground floor, which

possessed several sofas but no table. A solemn silence was maintained

throughout the building, in which the wives of both prince and premier

were sharing, behind the gratings of the harem windows, the common

anxiety. Cigarettes and coffee were almost forgotten. Every new-comer

from the city underwent an ordeal of whispered questioning:—Is there any

news from the frontier? What do the latest newspapers say? Has the

English fleet come? Are the Italian troops already at Palermo? The

Turkish music was playing as usual at the door when I arrived, and M.

Sumaripa, the confidential agent of M. Roustan, had just left the

palace, after delivering a verbal message to Mustapha. When I met the

Prime Minister he was holding a letter in his hand. In order to avoid

mistakes Sumaripa had given him a copy of his instructions. It was a

last attempt on the part of M. Roustan to induce the Bey to commit

political suicide. The memorandum ran as follows:—“The recent

declarations made by the Bey to M. Roustan and the _corps consulaire_

have increased the anxiety already excited by his first communications.

It is true that His Highness asserts his firm intention to maintain

order, but he adds that he can no longer be responsible for it when once

the expedition against the Khamírs commences. In the presence of these

apprehensions in the mind of His Highness, M. Roustan informs him that

he is ready to place at his disposal a company of marines, together with

two cannons belonging to the French frigate in the roadstead, which

force will be amply sufficient to maintain order in and protect the

European quarter. But as we are now, and desire to remain in peace with

the Bey, the disembarkation in question can only take place on the

express demand of His Highness. Ask for an immediate answer, and in case

of refusal say that we take note of it.” Mustapha had already given

orders for a reply to be sent to M. Roustan, and having called M. Conti,

the Bey’s interpreter, we ascended the staircase together and entered a

small _salon_. The room was typical of the whole place. The floor was

covered with Sicilian tiles, and the wooden ceiling painted with wreaths

of red, yellow, and blue flowers. Window curtains, sofa cushions, and

_portières_ alike consisted of faded yellow damask. The table was

missing, but there were two chests of drawers, each supporting a clock

flanked by two artificial bouquets in Parian vases. A side door opened,

and the Bey entered; he took me kindly by the hand, and asked me to sit

down. Mustapha also occupied a place on the divan, but M. Conti remained

standing. The Bey is a fine-looking old man, with grey hair and beard,

and a ruddy complexion. His features are rather Turkish than Arabic, and

I never saw trouble more clearly written on a human face. He was dressed

in a black frock-coat and red trousers, and wore only his Pacha’s sword

and Turkish and Tunisian orders. Muhamed es Sadek at once began the

conversation:—“You have come lately from England, do Englishmen believe

in the Khamírs?” I replied that “I was afraid they knew very little

about them, but that the English press had unanimously deprecated the

expedition.” He said he knew that, and was grateful for the sympathy of

Englishmen, but that he wished to make his case more widely known both

in England and Europe generally. He then, with much animation and

gesture, spoke at considerable length as to his grievances. He commenced

by observing that both he and his predecessors had received, during more

than two centuries, continued marks of sympathy from England, and that

on their part the Beys of Tunis had always followed implicitly every

suggestion made by the English Government. His cousin Ahmed was the

first Mussulman sovereign who had abolished slavery, and he had himself

first granted permission to British subjects to hold land in the

Regency, and had done everything to promote English interests in his

country. He regarded with peculiar pride the high distinction the Queen

had conferred on him in sending him the Grand Cross of the Bath, as well

as many other assurances of her approbation. The Bey expressed his

surprise that his position as a vassal of the Sublime Porte had ever

been questioned in Europe. No Bey of Tunis had ever ascended the throne

without the Sultan’s investiture, and he himself had received three

separate firmans of appointment from Abdul Aziz and his two successors.

He pointed out that his jewelled sword and the Order of the Osmanlie in

diamonds were the insignia of his rank as Pacha of Tunis. The firman of

1871, about which much has been said, was merely a confirmatory and

declaratory act, which was elicited from the Sultan by the accident of

one of the Powers calling the _status_ of Tunis in question. The Bey

added several details on the subject of the subordinate political

position of Tunis, and declared that he and his predecessors had

scrupulously carried out every demand of their suzerain, both during the

Crimean war, and again in 1878. His principal consolation under the

present trial was the unqualified approval of his conduct twice already

conveyed to him by telegraph from the Sultan. He alluded to the explicit

treaty engagements he had entered into with the Powers, by which he

guaranteed equal privileges to all Europeans in his dominions, and said

that if he had favoured one nation more than another it was undoubtedly

France. Till a very recent period his relations with France had been

most cordial, and he had never refused any request made to him by her

representative which he could grant with any show of justice. France

possessed a railway which crossed his dominions, as well as the sole

means of telegraphic communication with Europe. He alluded in the

strongest terms to the course pursued by the Havas Agency, which had

endeavoured to deceive the world as to the Tunisian question, and to the

attacks made on him by the Algerian press, and particularly the

_Akhbar_; but in spite of all this, he said he would never ignore the

importance of legitimate French interests in the Regency, or abandon the

hope of the restoration of his old cordial relations with the French

Government, which only very recently had acknowledged his efforts to

maintain perfect order on the frontier. He said that M. Roustan had

unceasingly pressed on him for thirteen months the acceptance of a

French protectorate, and he added with energy, that, apart from his

treaties with the great Powers, his political and religious relations

with the Sultan would never allow him to accept it, and that nothing

could ever change his fixed determination on the subject; although his

suzerain alone had spoken, he could never believe that England and Italy

were indifferent to his fate. Not only had they both large and important

colonies, but they could not ignore the consequence of the complete

subversion of the government of his country which M. Roustan asked for.

He left this, however, to their own just appreciation, but they had in

the past ever insisted on an equality of treatment at his hands. He

bitterly complained of the conduct of M. Roustan towards him, and said

that it had made his life a burden to him for some time past. As regards

the Khamírs, a calm investigation would show that the true details of

the dispute were these:—France had assured Europe that she desired to

punish the Khamírs, but in a few days his own troops, under the command

of his brother, had occupied the part of the country in which they

lived, and any satisfaction France desired would be readily given. This

being the case, no shadow of an excuse existed for invading his

territory, and imperilling the peace of his country and the safety of

the European colony. M. Roustan had for some days asked his permission

for the French troops to occupy his territory, but he never could

consent to this step, either in his own name or in that of the Sultan.

He expressed his strong indignation at the attempt which had been made

to shift the responsibilities of the consequence of the invasion upon

him, and especially at the suggestion which M. Roustan had that day made

to him to concur in the disembarkation of French troops with two cannon

at Goletta. He pointed out that such a proceeding must inevitably lead

to very serious consequences. He said that every foreign representative

must testify to the perfect order prevailing in the country in spite of

warlike rumours and continued menaces, and he left it to such Englishmen

as Earl De la Warr and Mr. Guest to let England know, from their own

experience, how he had governed, and whether he was or was not entitled

to the sympathy of England. He felt sure an inquiry would lead a

generous nation like that of France to a different opinion concerning

him. He said he had no quarrel whatever with France; that he would

always further her interests in Tunis; but that, as a vassal of the

Porte, nothing could ever induce him to accept a French protectorate of

his states, or allow his territory to be occupied without protest. An

armed resistance he could not make, but he would be at his post to

maintain order and public security. He felt that he must leave his fate

to the justice of Europe, towards both himself and his suzerain.

After taking leave of the Bey, I went into the temporary office below to

read over the reply to M. Sumaripa’s demand, which had been approved by

the council. The letter was couched in the following terms:—

_The Bey to M. Roustan (April 23d)._

Our Prime Minister has brought to our knowledge the communication which

has been made to him in your name by M. Sumaripa. You state that

additional anxiety has been created amongst the European colonists by

reason of the recent declaration which we have made to you and the

representatives of the friendly Powers, and suggest that this impression

should be removed by the landing of a force of marines with two cannons

from the frigate at Goletta, in order to reassure the European

population of Tunis. You add that this measure can only be adopted with

our consent, because by God’s goodness we are at peace with your

Government, which desires to remain on friendly terms with us.

We must first thank both you and your Government for this spontaneous

declaration of its wish to continue at peace with us. We are obliged

also for your solicitude for our good and for the preservation of public

order, of which we consider your proposal itself as an evident proof. We

regret, however, to be obliged to decline your assistance because the

result would be contrary to what you imagine, and its acceptance would

amount to a confession of our inability to maintain order, which is far

from being the case. You are yourself a witness, that, under God’s

providence, nothing whatever has happened to justify the fears

entertained by the colonists, and that order everywhere prevails. The

interpretation you seek to give to our declarations is at variance with

the declarations themselves. We have assured both your honourable

colleagues and yourself that as long as things continue in their normal

course we will answer for the public order and tranquillity, and that in

any case we will do our utmost to prevent the smallest breach of the

peace. We repeat to you, however, once more, that if any portion of the

Regency is invaded by the French troops, we may find ourselves in the

presence of a general rising, which will spread all over the country

notwithstanding our efforts to suppress it. It is this danger we have

endeavoured to point out, and for which we must decline all

responsibility.

We still hope that the Government of the Republic will take all this

into serious consideration, and will reflect on the various perils which

an invasion of our country may engender. We trust, therefore, that we

may be permitted to exclusively treat the matter of the Khamírs,

concerning which we shall arrive at a solution of a satisfactory nature,

and such as will secure the end we both profess to have in view.

M. Roustan was very wroth at this unexpected refusal, and in the course

of the afternoon sent one of his janissaries to make a round of the

Consulates with the following protest in the shape of a circular:—

_M. Roustan to the Corps Consulaire (April 23d)._

The undersigned Chargé d’Affaires of the French Republic has the honour

to bring the following to the knowledge of all the representatives of

foreign nations at Tunis. In view of the renewed declarations of the Bey

in his last communications to the consuls, and of the alarm they have

caused among the population, the undersigned has thought it his duty to

inform His Highness that he was ready to place at his service the

landing party of the “Jeanne d’Arc,” at present in the roads off

Goletta, with two cannons, an amply sufficient force to maintain order

in the European quarter, and protect it against any aggression. The

undersigned only added that the landing could not take place except at

the express request of the Bey, who, this very morning, formally

declined these offers. The undersigned takes note of the refusal, and

loses no time in informing his colleagues of the fact. They will

conclude therefrom, like himself, that the uneasiness the Tunisian

Government feels as to the maintenance of order is less great than that

which it affects to be, or else that it has determined to accept,

whatever occurs, the responsibilities it has hitherto tried to decline.

Before leaving the palace the Prime Minister told me that the Bey had

determined to charter a steamer to carry his telegrams for

Constantinople to Marsala, as it was worse than useless for him to avail

himself of the French line, and offered to allow me to take advantage of

this mode of communication. I was therefore able to telegraph an account

of my conversation with the Bey to England the next day from Trapani in

Sicily. Mustapha was very anxious for me to join Ali Bey’s camp amongst

the Khamírs in order “to see what really took place,” but I told him it

was impossible for me to leave Tunis. He then repeated several times,

“We must have a witness, an _English_ witness,” and I suggested to him

that perhaps Mr. Perkins, a British resident in Tunis, would be able to

meet his wishes. Mr. Edmund Arthur Perkins started for the Khamír

country the same day, and continued to send valuable information to

Tunis until the final retreat of Ali Bey. His journal has especial

interest, as unlicensed writing was strictly forbidden amongst the

invaders. Every correspondent who joined the French columns was forced

to sign the following undertaking, which was very strictly adhered to:—

“I engage on my honour not to transmit any information, either directly

by telegraph or letter, or by third persons, without having the _visa_

of the commander of the column or of the officers he has delegated. I

admit that any breach of that engagement exposes me to all the rigours

of martial law. I moreover admit having been warned that if the journal

in the name of which I am accredited publishes news of a nature to be of

use to the adversaries of France, I may be forthwith escorted back to

the nearest port of embarkation, and that residence in Algeria be

forbidden me.”

It was hardly probable that the intelligence department of the Khamírs

(and, according to M. Roustan’s own showing, they were the only “enemies

of France”) comprised a collection of European journals, but the very

existence of such restrictions has rendered all communications from

independent sources of additional importance, and, as events afterwards

proved, Mustapha was wise in his generation, when he determined at any

cost to have a “witness” with the Tunisian troops amidst the Khamírs.

The last Punic war, Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 16 / 24 章