Chapter XXX: 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.