THE COMING CAMPAIGN.
On the 1st September Colonel Corréard’s column was back again at Hamman-
el-Lif, to “revictual and complete its munitions before recommencing its
march.” Not being a French elector, and having already learned something
of the significance of official verbiage, I thought it best to go to
Hamman-el-Lif and see what had really happened. The very appearance of
the soldiers betokened a sharp encounter at close quarters with the
Arabs, and I found no difficulty in gleaning the details of the
engagement. The French troops had already sighted Hammamet, when they
found the surrounding olive groves alive with Arabs. While the latter
checked their progress by a sharp fire, other bodies of insurgents
collected in their rear, and threatened to cut off all communication
with Tunis. In this predicament Colonel Corréard asked the co-operation
of a troop of 500 Tunisian irregulars encamped in the neighbourhood, but
as the commanding officer declined to comply with the request in the
absence of instructions, it was decided to fall back to “revictual and
complete munitions.” During the retreat the Arabs made constant attacks
on the column, notwithstanding that it was protected by artillery and
_mitrailleuses_, and in spite of the heavy loss they necessarily
sustained in each assault. The French at length regained their old camp,
after a most harassing and perplexing march. In no country does news
spread with more mysterious rapidity than amongst the Arabs, and the
consequences of Colonel Corréard’s retrograde movement were soon felt;
the position of the Zaghouán column became critical, and even the
Bizerta road was now no longer safe for foot passengers. Troops were
then sent to Hammamet by sea, and the French flag was hoisted on the old
fort, but matters can hardly be said to have mended; the Arabs
devastated the country up to the very walls of the town, and Colonel
Corréard did not think it prudent even to attempt to effect a junction
with the garrison. Ali Bey’s baggage trains now formed the constant
object of attack, and he was finally obliged to halt at Medjez-el-Bab,
in equal trepidation as to the attitude of the Arabs and the feelings of
the troops he commanded. In the midst of this confusion, the Prime
Minister announced a second summons to Paris.
On the 9th September, 2000 troops arrived at Goletta from Toulon, and
again started to effect on the following day the occupation of Susa,
where no resistance was now apprehended, as the imprisoned townspeople
were perhaps more afraid of the Arabs of the interior than they were of
the French. The number of troops already in the country exceeded 20,000
men, yet it became increasingly difficult to maintain communication with
the column, now intrenched in a strong position at Zaghouán. On the 10th
September, two mounted Arabs were sent thither from Goletta with
despatches. One of them returned the next day, and reported that when
about half way they had met a small body of French soldiers pursued by a
large number of Arabs. The man stated that he saw several Frenchmen
killed, that his companion was shot down, and that he only escaped by
the fleetness of his horse. The same day the inhabitants of Jedeida and
Tabourba abandoned their houses in consequence of the approach of the
Arabs in force.
On the 12th September, Mustapha Ben Ismail was requested or permitted to
resign his Grand Viziership, to the satisfaction of everybody except the
Bey, who refused to be comforted. The intrigues which preceded this
event, and the causes which directly led to it, are equally a mystery.
From the 12th May Mustapha had apparently served France, and, what is
more material, M. Roustan and his friends, with his whole heart; he had
made a _profession de foi_ to MM. Grévy and Saint-Hilaire face to face,
and had been raised to the highest rank in the national order of
chivalry; but notwithstanding all this he fell. Some say the fall was
the leaving of a sinking ship in disguise. At any rate, it is certain
the ex-Prime Minister had not neglected his opportunities; trading on
the doting liberality of his master, he had, in twenty years,
accumulated a princely fortune, after the manner of the heroes in the
Arabian Nights. The spoils of disgraced favourites, the lands of the
Hassanite family, and even the Tunisian crown jewels,[6] had found their
way into the hands of the captivating but avaricious Mustapha. It was
useless for the heirs to the throne to protest, for the splendid estates
almost forced on the favourite by his indulgent sovereign were now being
exchanged for other property in a fashionable quarter of the French
metropolis, and he was preparing to leave an ungrateful country behind
him. M. Roustan had gone to Paris for a few days at the end of August,
and the order for Mustapha’s removal came from thence. Everything beyond
this bare fact was religiously kept secret, but by a strange
coincidence, his departure was so timed as to enable him to meet the
Pro-Bey at Marseilles. On the 21st September there was much weeping in
the palace at Goletta. The Bey hung round Mustapha’s neck, and seemed to
care far more for the loss of his favourite than he did for that of his
crown. At parting he gave him an almost peerless black diamond, once in
a Spanish monarch’s possession, and the great emerald which had adorned
the breasts of the Hassanite Beys of Tunis for more than a century.
Mustapha went to Paris, and some months later returned thence. As an
active participator in Tunisian events he has disappeared from the
scene; but in the privacy of the harem he still rules the Bey who still
governs the country precisely to the extent the French Resident is
pleased to permit. His constant dream is to become once more Tunisian
Prime Minister; adventurers sometimes offer to help him by “moving
public opinion in his favour through the press,” but he refuses to pay
ready money or do anything but make promises. With all his faults
Mustapha did his utmost to keep the French out of Tunis; and to
counteract the policy of M. Roustan. His hate for France is doubtless as
deep now as it was then, and if any turn in the wheel of fortune
weakened her influence or crippled her resources, the Republic would
certainly not have a bitterer or more relentless enemy than Mustapha Ben
Ismail, ex-Prime Minister of Tunis, and Grand Cordon of the Legion of
Honour.
Mustapha was succeeded by his immediate predecessor, the octogenarian
Muhamed Khaznadar, who in spite of his eighty years and a club foot, is
almost as vigorous as when Sir Thomas Reade pulled his ear for
“neglecting English interests” nearly fifty years ago. Muhamed, in
accepting office, openly said that he knew the Tunisian Vizier was now a
cypher, and that he should merely try to be an intelligent machine.
The state of affairs showed no signs of mending; communications with
General Sabatier’s column grew more and more difficult, two entire
convoys were plundered, an Italian camp-follower, a boy Odino, was
roasted alive, and finally, in spite of the presence of the troops at
Zaghouán, the aqueduct conveying water to Tunis was cut, and the
metropolis threatened with one of the most appalling of privations. It
was only four days later (September 16th), that workmen succeeded in
repairing the damage, under the protection of a powerful escort.
The day after Mustapha, accompanied always by Mascaro and Volterra, left
for Paris, carrying with him the proceeds of most of his real estate,
the first symptom of disturbances on the French railway was apparent.
After devastating Tabourba and Jedeida, to the rear of Ali Bey’s column
near Medjez, the Arabs forced the train to return, firing at the
carriages and killing one of the Italian guards. The details of these
raids and outrages now become monotonous; but, although troops continued
to arrive almost daily, the moment for action was not yet come, and the
Arabs under General “Summer” held almost undisputed sway in Tunis.
Towards the end of the month the weather became perceptibly cooler, and
on the 24th September General Saussier, the Commander-in-Chief, once
more reached Tunis. In spite of the warning conveyed by the fate of the
ex-President of the Municipality, the ulema of the Regency had not been
entirely indifferent to the fate of their country and the threatened
desertion of Kairwán, the virgin shrine of North Africa. Important
communications had been addressed to the Egyptian vernacular press, and
the powerful confraternity of Sidi Abd-el-Kader el Chilani at Baghdad
was, at the instance of its dependent _Zaouia_ at Kairwán, using its
exertion and great influence to prevent the destruction of the sacred
city. Its chief, I believe, addressed a remonstrance to the Sultan as
Caliph, praying him to intercede with France on the subject, or, if
necessary, to ask the mediation of the friendly Powers. The ulema of
Tunis received ample proof that the matter excited great interest
throughout the Moslem world. They openly said at the time that Colonel
Negrier’s desecration of Sidi Sheikh’s tomb had already enabled Bou
Amema to arrange his differences with the rival chiefs, and that the
destruction of Kairwán would infallibly tend to consolidate the Moslem
antipathy to Christian rule in North Africa, and produce a general
revolt.
The French had now over 30,000 troops in Tunis; and on the 24th
September I accompanied the late Commander Selby, R.N., of H.M.S.
“Falcon,” to see General Logerot’s camp at Manouba. I find the following
note in my journal:—“Yesterday I visited General Logerot’s camp at
Manouba. The soldiers recently arrived are superior in appearance and
physique to those who took part in the first expedition. A large barrack
is filled with stores, artillery, and heavy ambulance waggons. As soon
as the rains set in, the country between Tunis and Kairwán will become a
marsh, and there are no roads. The large amount of baggage each soldier
is to carry, in addition to his portion of a tent, will prove as serious
an obstacle to progress as it did in the Khamír country, and will place
them at a disadvantage in the guerilla warfare the Arabs resort to.
“Close to the camp are the graves of seventy-four soldiers who have died
since the middle of July, and who all appear to have been under twenty-
four years of age.”
Ali Bey’s position at Testour, a few hours’ march from Medjez, now
became a very difficult one. Ali Ben Amar, an old, one-armed Caid of the
Ouled Ayar tribe, took the command of a large body of insurgents, and
actually formed a regular camp at Ain Tonga, and sent a sort of
ultimatum to the heir-apparent. General Ahmed Zerouck had recourse to a
ruse which he had practised with much success in 1864; he invited some
of Ben Amar’s followers to a meeting, and then tried to detain them as
hostages. They had, however, arranged a preconcerted signal with their
followers, and were promptly rescued. This led to an engagement between
the Tunisian troops and the Arabs, which was represented on both sides
as a victory, and gave rise to the most fantastic exaggerations. In
reality, Ali Bey only defended his position, and succeeded in keeping
the Arabs at bay, and nothing more. He sent expresses to Tunis to ask
for reinforcements and a further supply of ammunition, but before any
assistance could be sent him he was still harder pressed in a second
engagement on the following day. After the fighting had ceased, a
portion of Ali Ben Amar’s forces was observed to move in a northerly
direction, but Ali Bey was wholly powerless to control their movements.
The consequences of this inability were of so unexpected and important a
nature, that I reserve the continuation of the narrative for a separate
chapter. On the 30th September, M. Roustan, accompanied by Generals
Bréart and St. John, returned to Tunis, but the day will be always
remembered as the date of the Oued Zerga massacre.