[Algeria and Tunis in 1845. By Captain J.C. Kennedy, 18th Royal Irish. London: 1846.]

[Algeria in 1845. By Count St Marie, formerly in the French Military Service. London: 1846.]

We have always felt a strong interest in the welfare and progress of the French colonies in Africa. Our reasons for the same are manifold, and must be manifest to the readers of Maga; that is to say, to all judicious and reflecting persons conversant with the English language. There is, indeed, much to excite sympathy and admiration in the conduct of our neighbours to their infant settlement in the land of the Moor and the Arab. Their treatment of the natives has been uniformly considerate, their anxiety to avoid bloodshed painfully intense, their military operations have been invariably successful, and in their countless triumphs, modestly recorded in the veracious bulletins of a Bugeaud, they have ever shown themselves generous and magnanimous conquerors. The result of their humane and judicious colonial administration, and of a little occasional wholesome severity on the part of Colonel Pelissier, or some other intrepid officer, is most satisfactory and evident. A hundred thousand men are now sufficient to keep the ill-armed and scattered Arab tribes in a state of perfect tranquillity. Twice or thrice in the year, it is true, they rise up, like ill-bred savages as they are, and fiercely assault the Europeans who have kindly volunteered, to govern their country, and, whenever it may be possible, to civilize themselves. A few unfortunate French detachments, outposts and colonists, are plundered and slaughtered; but then up comes a LamoriciÈre or a Changarnier, perchance the Duke of Isly himself, or a prince of the blood in person, with thousands of bayonets and sabres; and forthwith the turbulent Bedouins scamper across the desert in tumultuous flight, their dingy bournouses waving in the wind, shouts of fury and exultation upon their lips, and Frenchmen’s heads upon the points of their scimeters. As to Abd-el-Kader, the grand instigator of these unjustifiable outbreaks, he is a troublesome and discontented barbarian, always kicking up a devil of a hubbub, usually appearing where least desired, but, when wanted, never to be found. The gallant and reverend gentleman—for, besides being an emir and a general, he is a marabout or saint of the very first chop—has caused the aforesaid Bugeaud a deal of annoyance; and the marshal has long been desirous of a personal interview, which hitherto has been obstinately declined. Altogether the emir is a vexatious fellow; and it is another strong proof of French kindness and conciliatory spirit, that although he has frequently wandered about in very reduced circumstances, sans army or friends, with a horse and a half, and a brace of barefooted followers, (vide the Paris newspapers of any date for the last dozen years,) the French, instead of laying hold of him and hanging him up, which of course they might easily have done, have preferred to leave him at large. Some say that it would be as unreasonable to expect an enthusiastic fox-hunter to waylay and shoot the animal that affords him sport, as to look for the capture of Abd-el-Kader at the hands of men who find pleasure and profit in the chase, but would derive little of either from its termination. To cut his throat would be to cut their own, and to slay the bird that lays the golden epaulets. It is related, in a book now before us, that M. Bugeaud, when applied to by a colonel for a column of troops to pursue and capture the emir, replied in these terms:—“Do not forget, sir, that to Abd-el-Kader most of your brother officers are indebted for their chances of promotion.” Others have asserted, that if the Arab chief is still a free denizen of the desert, it must be attributed to his own skill, courage, and conduct; to the bravery of his troops, and the fidelity of his adherents; and not to any merciful or prudential scruples of his opponents. We reject this notion as absurd and groundless. We are persuaded that French forbearance is the sole reason that the head of Abd-el-Kader, duly embalmed by the procÉdÉ Gannal, does not at this moment grace the sideboard of the victorious Duke of Isly, or frown grimly from the apex of the Luxor obelisk.

Having thus avowed our strong interest in the prosperity of Algeria, we need hardly say that we read every book calculated to throw light upon the progress and prospects of that country. The volumes referred to at foot of the first page, had scarcely issued from the sanctuaries of their respective publishers, when our paper-knife was busy with their contents, and as we cut we eagerly read. We confess to have been disappointed. Captain Kennedy’s narrative is tame, and rather pedantic; its author appears more anxious to display his classical and historical lore, and to indulge in long descriptions of scenery and Arab encampments, than to give us the sort of information we should most have appreciated and relished. As a book of travels, it is respectable, and not unamusing; but from travellers in a country whose state is exceptional, one has a right to expect more. We had hoped for more copious details of the present condition and probable result of French colonization, for more numerous indications of the state of feeling and intercourse between the Arab tribes and their European conquerors. These matters are but slightly touched upon. It is true that Captain Kennedy, in his preface, avows his intention of not entering into political discussions, and of abstaining from theories as to the future condition of the southern coast of the Mediterranean. We can only regret, therefore, that he has not thought proper to be more comprehensive. His opportunities were excellent, his pen is fluent, and he evidently possesses some powers of observation. Received with open arms and cordial hospitality by the numerous officers to whom he had introductions, or with whom he casually became acquainted, he has perhaps felt a natural unwillingness to probe and lay bare the weak points of the French in Africa. Such, at least, is the general impression conveyed to us by his book. He seems hampered by fear of requiting kindness by censure; and, to escape the peril, has abstained from criticism, forgetting the possible construction that may be put upon his silence. There is certainly scope for a work on Algeria of a less superficial character, and such a one we wish he had applied himself to produce. From no one could it better proceed than from a British officer of intelligence and education. We are not disposed, however, because Captain Kennedy has not fulfilled all our expectations, to judge with severity the printed results of his tour. His tone is easy and gentlemanly, and we are far from crying down what we presume to be his first literary attempt.

From the English officer we turn to the French one, whose book is of a much more ambiguous character. Who is this Count St Marie? Whence does he derive his countship and his melodramatic or vaudevilleish name? Does he write in English, or is his book translated? Is he a Frenchman as well as a French officer, a bon fide human being, or a publisher’s myth; a flesh and blood author, or a cloak for a compilation? From sundry little discrepancies, we suspect the latter; and that he is indebted for name, title, and rank, to the ingenious benevolence of his editor. Sometimes he talks as if he were a Frenchman; at others, in a manner to make us suppose him English. Whatever his nation, it is strange, if he has been an officer in the French service, that he should request information from a certain mysterious Mr R——, whom he constantly puts forward as an authority, on the subject of promotion in the French army, and respecting French military decorations. The commanders of the Legion of Honour, he tells us, wear the gold cross en sautoir, like the cross of St Andrew. Odd enough that Count St Marie should be more conversant with Scottish decorations than with French ones. Talking of Bougia, at page 203, he remarks that “the blindness and imbecility of the French in Africa is (he might have said are) more perceptible there than any where else;” and adverts to “the ruined dÉbarcadÈre, the fragments of which seem left only to put French negligence to shame.” We doubt if any Frenchman would have written in this tone, especially in a book intended for publication in England. There are many similar passages in the volume. Yet the gallant count talks of the French consul as “our consul,” and of the French troops as “our columns,” the latter in the very same paragraph in which he sneers at their victories. His style is free from foreign idioms, but here and there occurs a peculiarity seeming to denote a translation. A town is said to be garrisoned by veteran troops, when the meaning evidently is, that the garrison was a detachment of the French corps known as “the Veterans.” Although cent sous is a common term in France to express a five-franc piece, in English we do not talk of a payment of one hundred sous. But it is unnecessary to multiply instances. We have probably said enough to make our readers coincide in our suspicion, that “Algeria in 1845,” by Count St Marie, is neither fish, flesh, nor red herring, but altogether of the composite order. It is, nevertheless, amusing and full of anecdote, with only here and there a blunder or dash of exaggeration; and although, as we believe, a compilation, it is tolerably correct in its statistics and inferences. We must protest, however, against the humbug of the system. A book that has merit may be launched under its true colours, and kept afloat without a titled name upon the title-page.

The motives that induce the French to cling, with a tenacity which an immense annual outlay of treasure and human life has hitherto failed to weaken, to their African conquest, are, we believe, pretty well appreciated, at least in this country, where colonies and colonization are understood, and where French policy is studied by many. Algeria is the safety-valve by which the superfluous steam of the national character is in some measure let off; it affords a point de mire for the people, occupation for the army, a subject of discussion for the newspapers. Doubtless a large section of the French nation, or at least of its more sensible and thinking classes, would gladly witness the abandonment of a colony which has already cost more than there is any probability of its yielding for years to come—more, perhaps, than it ever will yield, either in direct or indirect advantages. But were it proposed to give it up, the general cry would be loudly against the measure. Not that there is a probability of the proposal being made. The present shrewd and wary ruler of France well knows that a little blood-letting is as essential to keep down the feverish temperament of his people as a plaything is to occupy their thoughts and preserve them from mischief. Algeria is at once the leech and the toy. Restless and enterprising spirits there find the field of action they require; those who might otherwise be busy with home politics, have their attention diverted by battles and bulletins. The evils of protracted and unprofitable warfare do not, in this instance, come home to the nation in a very direct and palpable form, and therefore disgust at the resultless strife has not yet replaced the interest and excitement it creates. Now and then a tent or an umbrella is captured and stuck up in the gardens of the Tuileries to be gaped and wondered at by the Parisians. This gives a fillip to popular enthusiasm, and well-fed national guardsmen, as they take their turn of duty at the palace gates, look with increased respect and envy upon the Algerine schako and bronzed visage of their fellow sentry of the line. Captain Kennedy gives an amusing instance of the extent to which the martial ardour of sober French citizens is sometimes carried by that stir of arms and din of battle whose echoes are wafted to their ears from the distant shores of the Mediterranean.

“Among the various costumes and styles of dress seen in the streets of Algiers, none are so ridiculous as that of the European civilian, dressed À l’Arabe, some fine specimens of which we saw to-day. One of this genus, a wealthy shopkeeper from the Rue ChaussÉe d’Antin, had, by his adventures a short time since, created some little amusement. Enthusiastic on the subject of the new colony, his thoughts by day had been for months of Algiers, and his dreams by night of bournoused warriors, fiery steeds, and bloody yataghans. At last, determined to see with his own eyes, he left his beloved Paris, and arrived safely in Algiers.

“His first care was to procure a complete Arab dress, in which he sallied forth the morning after his arrival. He came in search of adventures, and he was soon gratified. Stalking along, he accidentally hustled a couple of French soldiers, was sworn at, thrashed, and rolled in the mud as a ‘SacrÉ cochon d’Arabe,’ lost his purse from having no pockets in his new garments, and was nearly kicked down stairs by the garÇon of his hotel for venturing to enter his own room.

“Undismayed by these misadventures, he set out the following day, armed to the teeth, to ride to Blidah. When, half-way there, he was seized as a suspicious character by two Arab gendarmes, for being armed without having a permit, and pretending not to understand Arabic; he was disarmed and dismounted, his hands tied behind his back, and fastened to his captor’s stirrup. He spent the night on the ground in a wretched hut, with a handful of cuscusoo for supper, and next morning was dragged into Algiers in broad daylight, half dead with fear and fatigue. On being carried before the police he was instantly liberated; and, taking advantage of the first packet, returned to France, having seen more of life in Algeria in a few days, than many who had spent the same number of years in the colony.”

Great must have been the discomfiture of the worthy burgher, although he had much reason to rejoice at having encountered Arab gendarnes and French troopers, instead of Bedouins or Kabyles, who would hardly have let him off with a beating, a night’s imprisonment, and a cuscusoo supper. We can imagine his delight at again finding the asphalte of the Boulevards under his boot-soles, and the respect with which his coffee-house gossips regarded him, as he related, over his post-prandial demi-tasse, or in the intervals of his game at dominos, the adventures of his amateur campaign, and the perils that beset the pilgrim to Algeria. A slight traveller’s license would convert the pair of gendarmes into a troop of hostile cavalry, and his brief detention in the hut into a visit to the dungeons of Abd-el-Kader. His friends would look up to him as a military authority, his wife exclaim at the injustice that left his button-hole undecorated; and when next his company of the national guard elected their officers, he would have but to present himself to be instantly chosen. The laurels he had failed to achieve in Africa would be bestowed upon him by acclamation in the guard-room of his arrondissement.

In relating the well-known incident that gave rise to hostilities between France and the Dey of Algiers, Count St Marie goes back to the remote cause, which, by his account, was a lady. In the time of Napoleon the Bey of Tunis had a favourite female slave, for whom he ordered, of an Algerine Jew, a costly and magnificent head-dress. The Jew, unable to get it manufactured in the country, wrote to Paris; the head-dress was made, at an expense of twelve thousand francs, and the modest Israelite charged it thirty thousand to the Bey. The latter was too much pleased with the bauble to demur at the price, but, not being in cash, he paid for it in corn. There chanced just then to be a scarcity in France; the Jew sold his grain to the army contractors, and managed so well that he became a creditor of the French government for upwards of a million of francs. Napoleon fell, and the Bourbons declined to pay; but the Jew contrived to interest the Dey of Algiers in his cause, and remonstrances were addressed to the French government. The affair dragged on for years, and at last, in 1829, on the eve of a festival when the diplomatic corps were admitted to pay their respects to the Dey, the latter expostulated with the French consul on the subject of the long delay. The answer was unsatisfactory, and the consequence was the celebrated rap with a fan or fly-flap, which sent its giver into exile, and converted Algeria into a French province. On visiting the Kasbah, or citadel, at Algiers, Captain Kennedy was shown the little room in which the insult was offered to the representative of France. It is now used as a poultry-yard. “Singularly enough,” says the captain, “as we entered, a cock, strutting on the deserted divan, proclaimed his victory over some feebler rival by triumphant crow—an appropriate emblem of the real state of affairs.” But the conquered cock is game; and although sorely punished by his adversary’s spurs, he returns again and again to the charge.

Within the fortress of the Kasbah were comprised the Dey’s palace, harem, and treasury. The buildings are now greatly altered, at least as regards their application. The private residence of the Dey has been converted into officers’ quarters, the harem is occupied by artillerymen, a kiosk has been arranged as an hospital, and a mosque has become a Catholic chapel. The treasury was said to contain an immense sum at the time of its capture by the French; but the exact amount was never known, and various accounts have been given of the probable disposal of the money. Captain Kennedy believes there is little doubt that the sum of forty-three millions of francs, officially acknowledged to have been shipped to France, was employed by the ministers of Charles the Tenth in their vain endeavours to suppress the revolution of 1830. Certain general officers of the invading army have been charged with acts of appropriation; but nothing was ever proved, and the whole rests on rumour and unsupported assertion. However the money was got rid of, there is no doubt that a vast deal was found. The Dey, a careless extravagant old dog, worthy of his piratical ancestors, was any thing but minute in his record of receipts and expenditure. He was not the man to ring his sovereign or mark his bank-notes; he knew as much about double entry as about the Greek mythology or the Waverley novels, and kept his accounts with a shovel and a corn-bin. Wooden partitions divided his treasury into compartments—one for gold, one for silver, and separating foreign and native coin; when money was received, it was thrown in uncounted; when wanted, it was taken out without form or ceremony of writing. “Such also was the carelessness shown,” adds Captain Kennedy, “that, in one part, the walls still bear the impressions of coins cast in at random, before the inner coating of plaster had had time to dry,”—quite a realisation of fairy tale accounts, and popular ideas of Oriental profusion and lavish prodigality. The manner in which these heads of gold and silver were guarded is equally curious, and completes a picture worthy of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. “Prior to the French occupation,” says M. St Marie, “any attempt to penetrate into these caves was impracticable, the approach to them being guarded by lions, tigers and hyenas, chained up at short distances from each other.” Besides these formidable brute body-guards, whose melodious voices must have greatly soothed the slumbers of the fair inmates of the seraglio, the Dey had barracks within the Kasbah for his household troops, on whose fidelity he relied for protection from the soldiery of the regency, frequently in a state of mutiny.

Military hospitals are of course a primary necessity in a country where half a million of soldiers have perished during the last fifteen years, either by disease or the sword. At Algiers there are several establishments of the kind, one of which, situated in the gardens of the Dey, and capable of containing five thousand sick, is particularly worthy of notice. Large as the building is, it is insufficient in summer and autumn to accommodate all who seek admission. The gardens have been left as much as possible uninjured, and their orange-trees and fountains afford cool shade and delightful freshness to the convalescent soldiers. On the other hand, the Jardin Marengo, belonging to Colonel Marengo, the commandant of the citadel of Algiers, contributes its quota to the sick wards. It is cultivated, Count St Marie informs us, by condemned soldiers, who suffer dreadfully from the heat and from exposure to the burning sun. Scarcely a day passes without some of the unfortunate men being conveyed to hospital, and in many instances they never recover. The real name of Colonel Marengo is Capon. His father distinguished himself at the battle of Marengo, and Napoleon jestingly bestowed on him the name retained by his son, instead of the ignoble appellation that he previously bore. Apropos of the hospital—or it might just as well be said, Àpropos de bottes—the Count, who certainly never loses an opportunity of bringing in a good story, relates one of a M. St Vincent, president of a French learned society, who went to Africa to prosecute researches in natural history. Eager for specimens, he was liberal in his payments; and one day a great curiosity was brought to him in the shape of two rats, each with a long excrescence, like the trunk of an elephant, issuing from the top of the nose. He caught at the prize, and immediately forwarded to the Jardin des Plantes at Paris a scientific description of the rat trompÉ. But his letter had scarcely gone when the excrescence became dry and dropped off; and on examination it was found that incisions had been made above the noses of the animals, and the tails of two other rats inserted The rat trompÉ dwindled into a rat trompeur.

After a short stay in the city of Algiers, and contemplating a return thither, Captain Kennedy and his companion, Viscount Fielding, started for Blidah by diligence. At about half a mile from the Kasbah, the road—an excellent one, constructed by the troops—passes under the walls of Fort l’Empereur, built in commemoration of a victory obtained by the Moors in the year 1541 over the troops of Charles V. Some of the cannon abandoned on this occasion by the Spaniards were originally French, having been taken by the imperial army at the battle of Pavia. The Algerines mounted them on the Kasbah, where they remained until in 1830, after an interval of three hundred and five years, they again fell into the hands of their first possessors. The fort, which owes its existence to a signal triumph of Algerine power, was not destined to survive the downfall of the Crescent. Invested by the French, a few hours’ cannonade dismounted its guns, breached its walls, and ruined its defences. The garrison were compelled to abandon it, and retreat into the city, with the exception of a few desperadoes, who had sworn to perish, but never to fly before the Christians. Whilst the French troops impatiently awaited orders for an assault, a tremendous explosion took place; and when the dust and smoke cleared away, the whole western face of the fort was a heap of ruins. The surrender of the city shortly followed.

Previously to an earthquake that occurred in 1825, the town of Blidah, situated in a fertile valley at the foot of the lesser Atlas, numbered fifteen thousand inhabitants. Many of these perished in the ruins of their dwellings, and the place never recovered itself; for, at the period of the French invasion, the population was only five thousand. Placed in the very heart of the scene of war, the diminution continued, and the native inhabitants are now an insignificant handful. The European population is on the increase, and the situation of the town on the line of communication between the port of Algiers and the country beyond the Atlas, as well as its good climate and abundance of water, seems to mark it out as a place of future importance. In former times it was a favourite residence of the Moors and Arabs, who called it the New Damascus. There has been hard fighting there during the present war, and it has thrice changed masters. It is surrounded by luxuriant gardens and groves of orange-trees, whose fruit is said to be the finest in the world. The plantations formerly extended quite up to the town; but the Arabs took advantage of this to come down and pick off the sentries, and it was found necessary to clear a large number of acres. This impoverished many of the inhabitants, whose wealth consisted in plantations of oranges, lemons, and olives. The town is usually garrisoned by the Zouaves, troops originally raised amongst the natives in imitation of our Sepoys. Soon after the formation of the corps, however, Frenchmen were allowed and encouraged to enlist, and of these the three battalions now principally consist. As fighting men they enjoy the highest possible character, but in quarters they are terrible scamps. Its gallant reputation and picturesque uniform, and the numerous opportunities of distinction afforded to it, cause this corps to be generally preferred by volunteers, and non-commissioned officers often leave the line to serve as privates in the Zouaves.

At Blidah, Captain Kennedy and his friend procured horses, and with their party strengthened by two Prussian officers, they set out for Medeah. West of the river Chiffa they came upon another military road, at which a battalion was then working. Men and officers were encamped in tents, and in huts constructed of boughs. “The men employed on this duty receive seventy-five centimes (about sevenpence) additional pay per diem; and during the winter and spring, as the work is not hard, it is rather preferred by the troops to garrison duty.” The system of providing employment for the soldier, when he is not actually opposed to the enemy, is very generally carried out by the French in their African colony, and also in France when it is possible to be done. Captain Kennedy evidently approves of it. At Medeah, a few minutes’ walk from the gate, are the gardens of the garrison. Each regiment or battalion has its piece of ground, divided into lots for the different companies, and supplying the troops with vegetables. “Here, as at other places I have since visited, the ground in the occupation of the troops was in a high state of culture, and superior both in produce and neatness of arrangement to the gardens of the civilians. * * * In many of our own colonies, and even at home, this system might be followed with beneficial results to our troops; for, putting aside the addition the produce would make to the comforts of the men, any employment or amusement that would tend to keep the soldier out of the canteen or public-house during his leisure hours, and there are many on whom it would have that effect, must be advantageous.”

Medeah is the capital of the province of Tittery, and the head-quarters of a subdivision of the French army, commanded by General Marey, to whom Captain Kennedy had introductions. To these the general did all honour, and sketched out for his guests the plan of an expedition to the Little Sahara. A French traveller, recording his visit to Medeah, has given the following ludicrous and melancholy account of the caravanserais of the town. “On a dÉjÀ plusieurs cafÉs avec l’inÉvitable billard, et deux hÔtels oÙ le travail est divisÉ, car l’un loge and l’autre nourrit; les chambres n’y sont pas encore tout À-fait meublÉes, et le charpentier n’a pas encore achevÉ l’escalier qui y monte. On y a oubliÉ une certaine faience trÈs utile, mais il y a dÉjÀ des miroirs.” This description, doubtless as true as it is characteristic, now no longer applies. Things have improved in the last year or two; and at the time of Captain Kennedy’s journey, the Medeah hotels were very tolerable. But he was eager for the desert, and tarried little in the town. Accompanied by an aide-de-camp of General Marey, who had volunteered to do the honours of the colony, and show to the English visitors life amongst the Bedouins, escorted also by a score of light infantry, a party of Spahis or native cavalry, by half a dozen officers of the garrison, several servants, and a vast number of dogs, our travellers struck into the Arab country. The district they were about to traverse being peopled by friendly tribes, this large attendance was less for purposes of protection to the Englishmen than of mischief to the wild-boars, which it was proposed to hunt. After a night passed in an Arab tent, the battue began; and although not very successful, only one boar being killed, the sportsmen deemed themselves well repaid for eight hours’ walk in a broiling sun, by magnificent scenery, and the excitement of the chase.

There is interest, although no very great novelty, in Captain Kennedy’s narrative of his wanderings amongst the dasheras and douars of the Bedouins. The douars are Arab camps, the dasheras villages, or rather collections of huts, built of stone and mud, and roofed with branches of trees. The walls of these miserable habitations are low; the door does duty as sole window; for a fireplace a hole is made in the earthen door; the furniture consists of a few mats, a corn-mill, some pots, and a lamp. These are the dwellings of the agricultural tribes, who live near the mountains. The pastoral tribes roam over the desert; their tents, corn-mills, and mats, packed upon camels; and driving with them flocks and herds of sheep, goats, and cattle. When they halt, the tents are pitched in a circle, the opening towards the east; and at night the animals are driven into the inclosure, for safety from robbers, and to prevent straying. A family of Arabs will frequently wander several days’ march from their usual abiding-place to some French garrison or settlement, there to barter their stock for corn and European produce. They travel by easy journeys, and halt whenever convenient, only taking care to keep out of the way of hostile tribes. “A short time serves to unload the camel, spread the mats, and pitch the tent. A few handfuls of corn, ground in the mill, kneaded into a paste with water, and baked in thin cakes on the fire, with a drink of water, or, if they have it, milk, forms their simple meal.” Such is the abstemious life of these sons of the desert. In the autumn, when the great fair is held at Boghar, the advanced post of the French on the side of the Little Sahara, several thousand people repair thither, bringing hides, cheese, butter, and wool; also dates, skins of beasts, ostrich feathers, and the woollen manufactures of the Arab women, received from the interior of the country. These various products are exchanged for honey, oil, corn, cutlery, and cotton cloths. Arms and ammunition used to be greatly in request, but the French have prohibited that traffic. The imports of European goods are on the increase, and Captain Kennedy considers French trade in the north of Africa in a highly improving state, favoured as it is by numerous roads, made or making, through the Atlas, by the pacification of the country, and submission of the tribes between Blidah and Boghar. How long this submission may last must be considered doubtful. It has been induced neither by love nor fear, but by self-interest. The more prosperous tribes, and those located in the plain, finding Abd-el-Kader unable to protect them, took the only means left to secure themselves from the fierce razzias of the French, and from the ruin that these entailed. So long as they deem it advantageous, they will doubtless be staunch to their compact; but let then see or imagine a probable change in the fortune of the war, and they will be found eager, as some of them have already shown themselves, to rally once more round the standard of the Emir.

Amongst the tribes whose hospitality was shared by Captain Kennedy, the most powerful was that of Ouled-Macktar, whose chief, Ben Douda, is considered by the captain to afford a good type of the Arab chiefs in the pay of France. For a long period he acted as one of Abd-el-Kader’s lieutenants, but at a critical moment transferred his services to the French. His people had their possessions secured to them, and he himself received the appointment of Aga over the Arabs of the Little Desert, with an allowance of ten per cent on the tribute paid by the tribes under his jurisdiction. He is described as about fifty years of age, with handsome though harsh features of the true Arab cast. “What struck me most in his appearance, was the expression of deep cunning strongly marked in the lines that crossed his forehead, and in the downcast and furtive glances of the eye, observing every thing, yet seemingly inattentive.” The Aga is very wealthy, and lives in great luxury, comparatively to most of the Arabs. Captain Kennedy’s party reached his camp at a fortunate moment. The douar was in an unusual state of excitement, and great rejoicings were on foot in honour of the marriage of the Aga’s son. The wedding-feast, consisting of sheep roasted whole, stewed gazelle, cuscusoo, and other Bedouin delicacies, was succeeded by some very graceless dances. Whilst the latter proceeded, the men kept up an irregular fire of guns, pistols, and blunderbusses, presenting their weapons at each others’ breasts, and suddenly dropping the muzzle at the moment of pulling the trigger, so that the charge struck the ground. As might be anticipated, this dangerous sport did not terminate without an accident. One young savage omitted to sink his muzzle, and sent a blank cartridge into the hip of a comrade, knocking him over, burning his bournous, and causing an ugly, although not a dangerous wound. “The rest of the party did not seem to care much about it, and the wounded man’s wife, instead of looking after her husband, rushed up to the man who had shot him, and, assisted by some female friends, opened upon him a torrent of abuse, with such fluency of tongue and command of language, that, after endeavouring in vain to get in a word or two, he fairly turned tail and walked off.”

In the douar of the Abides tribe, Captain Kennedy fell in with a scorpion-eater. This was a disgusting-looking boy, who, being an idiot, was looked upon by the Arabs as a saint—deprivation of intellect constituting in their opinion a high claim to holiness. This urchin bolted, sting and all, a fine lively scorpion upwards of two inches long—the reptile writhing between his teeth as he deliberately crunched it. Our traveller had heard of such exploits, but had naturally been rather incredulous concerning the non-removal of the sting. In this case, however, he was perfectly satisfied that no deception was practised. The boy afterwards devoured another of the same dangerous species of vermin. He belonged to the religious sect of the Aisaoua, who claim the privilege of being proof against the venom of reptiles and the effects of fire. A most extraordinary account of a festival of this sect has been given by a French officer, of whose narrative Captain Kennedy supplies a translation. Fortunately he does not vouch for its veracity; so we may be permitted to disbelieve one half and doubt the rest. M. St Marie relates some marvels of a similar description, collected from an interpreter who had been a prisoner of Abd-el-Kader.

The general impression made on us by Captain Kennedy’s account of his visit to the Arab tribes, is, that the French have as yet done little or nothing towards securing the affections and improving the condition of the people they have subjugated. It must be acknowledged that they have had to do with an intractable race, and one difficult to conciliate. The old hatred and contempt of Mussulmans towards Christians has been preserved in full force in the deserts and mountains of Northern Africa. Centuries have done nothing to weaken it, or to cause the followers of Mahomet to look with liking, or even tolerance, upon the children of the Cross. The Christian is still a dog, and the son of a dog; and even when crouching before his power and intelligence, the Arab nurtures hopes of revenge, long deferred but never abandoned. The French regard their conquest as secure; and doubtless it may be rendered so by the maintenance of a powerful military establishment; but who can foretell the time when they will be enabled to withdraw even a portion of their present African army? Their doing so would be a signal for revolt amongst the chiefs now in their pay, amongst the tribes apparently most effectually humbled and subdued. Patience and vindictiveness are distinguishing traits of the Arab. He bides his time, but never loses sight of his object and of his revenge. “They do not forget,” says Count St Marie, speaking of the Arabs of the province of Oran, “that the Spaniards, weary of occupying a territory which cost them great sacrifices, and yielded them no advantages, abandoned their conquest after two centuries of possession. They foresee that, one day or other, they will be rid of the French, who have made as great a mistake as the Spaniards. The Arabs are animated by an innate spirit of pride and independence which nothing can subdue.” We venture no prophecies in this sense, but neither can we predict the day when Algeria, as a colony, will become other than an unproductive burden to its present possessors, or when it will repay them for the blood and treasure they so liberally expend upon it. They should beware of arguing too favourably from apparent calm and submission on the part of the natives. The ocean is often smoothest before a storm; the Arab most dangerous when apparently most tranquil. Like other Orientals, he starts in an instant from torpor and indolence into the fiercest activity. “The Arab,” says a German officer, whose narrative of adventure in Africa has recently been rendered into English, “lies whole days before his tent, wrapped in his bournous, and leaning his head on his hand. His horse stands ready saddled, listlessly hanging his head almost to the ground, and occasionally casting sympathising glances at his master. The African might then be supposed phlegmatic and passionless, but for the occasional flash of his wild dark eye, which gleams from under his bushy brows. His rest is like that of the Numidian lion, which, when satisfied, stretches itself beneath a shady palm-tree—but beware of waking him! Like the beasts of the desert and the forest, and like all nature in his own land, the Arab is hurried from one extreme to the other, from the deepest repose to the most restless activity. At the first sound of the tam-tam, his foot is in the stirrup, his hand on his rifle, and he is no longer the same man. He rides day and night, bears every privation, and braves every danger, in order to make prize of a sheep or ass, or of some enemy’s head. Such men as these are hard to conquer, and harder still to govern: were they united into one people, they would form a nation which would not only repulse the French, but bid defiance to the whole world. Unhappily for them, every tribe is at enmity with the rest; and this must ultimately lead to their destruction, for the French have already learned to match African against African.”

The constant hostilities amongst the tribes have doubtless facilitated their conquest; and the French still act upon the maxim of “divide et impera,” as the best means to retain what they have won. As yet little attention has been paid to more humane means of strengthening themselves in their new possessions, and to the civilisation of the natives. The chief plan proposed for the attainment of the latter object, has been to subject to the conscription all Arabs born since the occupation of the country by the French. It is very doubtful what may be the effect of this measure should it be carried out. Will it Frenchify the natives, and induce kindly feelings towards their conquerors, or render them more dogged and dangerous than before? They will, at any rate, acquire military knowledge, and an acquaintance with the European system of warfare, which, combined with the skill in arms and horsemanship they already possess, will render them doubly dangerous in case of a revolt. After their seven years’ service, they may perhaps think fit to join Abd-el-Kader, or any other leader then warring against the French. It is want of proper discipline that has rendered the Arab cavalry unable to compete successfully with that of France. They charge tumultuously and with little order, each man relying much upon himself individually, but doing little to aid the combined effect of the mass.

Might not conversion to Christianity be made a powerful lever for the civilisation of the tribes? They entertain a degree of respect for the Catholic priests scarcely inferior to that shown to their own marabouts. Abd-el-Kader has more than once released a prisoner, without ransom, at the prayer of the Bishop of Algiers. Near the last-named city, some French Jesuits have formed an establishment for the education, in the Christian faith, of young Arabs and Moors. There, as the author of “Algeria in 1845” informs us, a certain number of youths, after being baptized, are fed, clothed, lodged, and instructed in some trade. The French government pays little attention to this establishment, which is supported chiefly by charitable contributions. “It is, however, a great work of civilisation. The young pupils are hostages in the hands of the French. It is pretty certain that their fathers, brothers, and relations, will not join the rebels. When they leave this establishment, they will carry with them indelible feelings of gratitude. They will have an occupation, they will speak the French language, and will be of the same religion as their masters.”

Exclusive of the army, Frenchmen form less than half of the European population of Algeria. After them come Spaniards, who are very numerous; then Maltese and Italians; and finally, a small number of Germans, barely five per cent of the whole. The Spaniard, although often taxed with idleness and dislike to labour, here proves himself an industrious and valuable colonist; the Maltese travels from village to village with his little stock of merchandise; the German tills the ground. In the neighbourhood of Algiers, things have a very European aspect; and the Arabs themselves, from constant intercourse with the city, have lost much of their nationality. The appearance of a flourishing colony is, however, confined to this district. Little progress has as yet been made in rebuilding the other towns, although in most of them the work of improvement is begun, and the narrow dirty streets are being pulled down to make room for wider avenues and more commodious houses. In some of them the only buildings as yet erected are barracks and hospitals. The seaport town of Bona, bordering on the regency of Tunis, is an exception. In 1832 it was reduced to ruins by the troops of the Bey of Constantina, under command of Ben AÏssa. It is now rebuilding on the European plan. A large square, with a fountain, has been laid out in its centre, and several well-built streets are completed. The town already boasts of an opera, with an Italian company, who are assisted by amateurs, chiefly Germans, from the ranks of the foreign legion.

The Algerine Jews attribute their first arrival in Africa to a miracle, of which we find the following version in Count St Marie’s book. In the year 1390, Simon-ben-Sinia, chief rabbi of Seville, and sixty of his co-religionists were imprisoned, and condemned to die, the object being to get possession of their wealth. On the eve of the day fixed for their execution, Simon drew the image of a ship on his prison wall. The drawing was miraculously changed into a real vessel, on board of which the prisoners embarked for Algiers, where they were kindly received by the Marabout Sidi Ben Yusef. This tradition is still an article of faith, even with the most enlightened of the Jews. In whatever manner they came, they have increased and multiplied, and now abound in all the towns of Algeria. Preserving the characteristics of their race, they differ little from their European brethren; or, if there be any difference, it is not much in their favour. Their moral condition is low; and although some honourable and honest men are found amongst them, the majority are of a very different stamp. They are charitable to their poor, and hospitable to their own people, and are generally well conducted; but their insatiable and inherent greed leads them into all sorts of disgraceful transactions. They have been immense gainers by the expulsion of the Deys, under whose rule they were subjected to much oppression and ill usage. “Their condition is now vastly ameliorated, and I have even heard complaints of their insolence; a very extraordinary charge against a race so tamed and broken in spirit. The French, I fear, can place but little reliance on their courage in occasions of danger.” The Jewish women, when young, are for the most part strikingly handsome; and the boys are models of beauty until the age of ten or eleven years, when their features grow coarse. Education is confined to the males.

The taming of savage animals is no uncommon amusement amongst the French in Algeria; and the most extraordinary and alarming pets are encountered not only in officers’ quarters but in ladies’ drawing-rooms. At Medeah, Captain Kennedy was introduced to a magnificent lion, the property of General Marey, Sultan by name, two years old, and of a most amiable and docile disposition. Sultan allowed himself to be examined and pulled about, and did not even exhibit anger, but some annoyance when an aide-de-camp puffed a cigar in his nostrils—a pleasantry which we are disposed to consider fool-hardy. The only thing that excited his ire was a Scotch plaid worn by Captain Kennedy. It was supposed that the hanging ends reminded him of an Arab bournous, to which he had shown great aversion, having probably been ill-treated in his infancy by the Arabs who caught him. Notwithstanding his good temper, the general intended to get rid of him, fearing that in the long run instinct might prove stronger than education. Besides the lion, General Marey had an unhappy-looking eagle, and a pair of beautiful gazelles. Count St Marie abounds in anecdotes of ferocious beasts in a state of civilisation. One of the first acquaintances he made in Algiers was a tame hyena, of most unamiable aspect, but who lived in touching amity with a little dog, and did the civil for lumps of sugar. At Bona, the count went to call upon some ladies, and, on opening the door, beheld a brace of lions walking about the room. He shut himself out with great precipitation, but was presently reassured by the fair proprietresses of these singular favourites. When he ventured into the saloon, and sat down, the lion laid his head upon his knee, and the lioness jumped on the divan beside her mistress. These brutes were seven years old. Lions are not very common in Algeria. Now and then they approach the douars, greatly to the alarm of the Arabs, who hasten to inform the French authorities, and a battue takes place. Accidents generally happen at these lion-hunts: Count St Marie affirms that there are always three or four lives lost, to say nothing of wounds and other serious injuries. Whilst passing the night in an Arab encampment at the entrance of the Bibans or Iron Gates—the scene of much hard fighting, and of a gallant exploit of the late Duke of Orleans—the count was roused, he informs us, in the dead of the night, “by a noise which appeared to me like a distant peal of thunder, repeated and prolonged by the mountain echoes. Gradually the noise became louder. The animals sprang from their resting-places, and the men, armed with muskets, rushed out of the tents. The oxen, grouped themselves together, and turned their horns to the enemy; the dogs were afraid even to bark. Presently the roaring became less frequent and more distant; and we found that we had been saved from the unwelcome visit of a lion, by the light of the burning brushwood on the neighbouring hills.” The boar and the jackal are more common and less dangerous objects of chase than the lion. Some of the rich colonists and many of the officers are ardent sportsmen. Two of the former have regular packs of hounds and studs of horses. Hares, rabbits, and red partridges are very common.

The horse has greatly degenerated in Algeria, owing chiefly to the neglect of the Arabs, who consider the choice of the dam to be alone important, and pay no attention to the qualities of the sire. The French government has recently established stables near Bona, with a view to the improvement of the breed; the stud is to consist of stallions only. There are to be similar establishments in the other two provinces. So great is the demand for the better class of horses, that the Arabs obtain very high prices for their stallions, which they willingly sell, but they will not part with the mares. Every year, therefore, it becomes more difficult to propagate a good breed. Officers have now been sent to Tunis to make purchases, at a limit of eighty ponds sterling for each horse. This price, Captain Kennedy says, ought to buy the best horses in the country. Although less numerous than formerly, splendid specimens of the Barbary Arab are still to be met with in Algeria. Captain Kennedy describes, in glowing terms, a magnificent charger belonging to General Marey, purchased by that officer at a high price, and after a long negotiation, from a wealthy chief in the south-west. M. St Marie says, that he knew a Morocco horse to perform fifty leagues in eleven hours, without turning a hair or showing a trace of the spur. Assuming him to speak of the common three-mile league, or even of the old French posting league, which was something less, this statement appears incredible. Thirteen miles and a half an hour! Dick Turpin himself, upon his fabulous mare, would have recoiled before such a pace sustained for such a time. The rate of marching of the Arabs, however, from Captain Kennedy’s evidence, is very rapid. The infantry do their fifteen or twenty leagues in the twenty-four hours—the cavalry from thirty to forty-five—the meharies (so say the Arabs) from fifty to eighty. This is when the tribes are on the war-path, making razzias upon each other’s flocks and camps, when it may be supposed that they put on a little extra steam. The mehary is an inferior race of camel, with a small hump, and possessed of considerable strength and spirit, carrying a couple of men. It keeps up for the whole day at about the same speed as the ordinary trot of a horse. Its diet is herbs and date kernels. The horses of the Sahara thrive best upon dates and milk; few of them get barley; and they are sometimes reduced, when no other food is obtainable, to eat cooked meat.

Amongst the most determined enemies of the French in Africa, are to be enumerated the Kabyles, tribes dwelling in the ranges of the Lesser Atlas, from Tunis to Morocco. Of different race from the Arabs, they are believed to be the aboriginal inhabitants of Northern Africa. Secure in their wild valleys, they have ever preserved their independence. Carthaginians, Romans, Vandals, Arabs, all failed to subdue them; and, although some of the tribes, whose territory is the least inaccessible, are now partially under the rule of the French, the maritime range, from the east of the Metidjah to Philippeville, remains unconquered. Their numbers are inconsiderable, roughly estimated at eighty thousand. This would give a fighting population of at most from sixteen to twenty thousand men; but that small force has been found efficient to preserve from foreign domination the almost impregnable fastnesses in which they dwell. Although the tribes wage frequent war amongst themselves, a common enemy unites them all. The attachment of the Kabyles to their country and tribe is remarkable. Like the Swiss, or the Spanish Galicians, they are accustomed to wander forth when young, and seek their fortune in other lands. Kabyle servants and labourers are found in all the towns and villages of Northern Africa. But if they learn that their tribe is threatened or at war, they abandon their situations, however advantageous, and hasten home, and to arms. They are very brave, but barbarously cruel, giving no quarter, and torturing their prisoners before cutting off their heads.

Their weapons are guns six or seven feet long, pistols, and yataghans, chiefly of their own manufacture, and the materials for which are found in their mountains, where they work mines of copper, lead, and iron. In their rude way, and considering the badness of their tools, they are tolerably ingenious. Amongst other things, they make counterfeit five-franc pieces, sufficiently well executed to take in the less knowing amongst the Arabs. Their industry is great, and, besides the valleys, they cultivate the steep mountain sides, forming terraces by means of walls, such as are seen in the vineyards on the Rhine and in Switzerland. Possessing few horses, they usually fight on foot; and in the plain, their untutored courage is unable to withstand the discipline of the French troops. Their charges are furious but disorderly; and when beaten back, they disperse to rally again at a distance. In the mountains, where the advantages of military organization have less weight, they are sturdy and dangerous foes, fighting on the guerilla plan, disputing each inch of ground, and disappearing from before their enemy only to fall with redoubled fierceness upon his flank or rear. No foreigners can penetrate into their country, and even Arabs run great risk amongst them. Not long ago, Captain Kennedy informs us, a party of Arab traders, suspected by the Kabyles of being in the French interest, were murdered to a man. Most of them understand and speak the Arabic, but they have also a language of their own, called the Shilla or Sherwia, whose derivation it has hitherto been impossible to discover. They profess Islamism, but mix up with it many superstitions of their ancestors, and ascribe certain virtues to the symbol of the cross, which they use as a talisman and tattoo upon their persons. “It would seem from this,” observes Captain Kennedy, “that at least the outward forms of the early Christians had at one period penetrated into the heart of their mountains.” That, however, like all that relates to the early history of the Kabyles, is enveloped in doubt and obscurity.

A barbarous practice, prevalent in Algeria before the French invasion, is still, Count St Marie tells us, adhered to by the Kabyles. The amputation of a limb, instead of being surgically performed, is effected by blow of a yataghan. The stump is then dipped into melted pitch, to stop the bleeding. The barber is the usual operator. Until the French came, regular physicians and surgeons were unknown in Algeria.

Besides the Zouaves already referred to, the French have raised various other corps expressly for African service. Conspicuous amongst these are two regiments of light cavalry, composed of picked men, and known as the “Chasseurs d’Afrique.” They are mounted on Arab horses; and in order to obtain a sufficient supply, each tribe has to furnish a horse as part of its yearly tribute. The arms of the Chasseurs are carbine, sabre, and pistols; their equipment is light; their uniform plain, and well suited to the nature of the service. Wherever engaged, they have greatly distinguished themselves, and are proportionably esteemed in the army of Africa. The reputation of the Spahis stands less high. These consist of four regiments of native cavalry, under the command of the Arab general Yussuf, whose history, as related by M. St Marie, is replete with romantic incident. It has been said that he is a native of the island of Elba, and was captured, when yet a child, by a Tunisian corsair. Sold to the Bey, he was placed as a slave in the seraglio, and there remained until an intrigue with his master’s daughter compelled him to seek safety on board a French brig, then about to join the fleet destined to attack Algiers. He made the first campaign as interpreter to the general-in-chief. His talents and heroic courage rapidly advanced him, and when the first regiment of Spahis was raised, he was appointed its colonel. Previously to that, he had rendered great services to the French, especially at Bona, when that town was attacked by Ben AÏssa. Landing from a brig of war with Captain d’Armandy and thirty sailors, he threw himself into the citadel, then garrisoned by the Turkish troops of Ibrahim, the former Bey of Constantina, who professed to hold the town for the French government, but had left his post. The Turks rose against their new leaders, and would have murdered them, but for the energy of Yussuf, who killed two ringleaders with his own hand, and then, heading the astounded mutineers, led them against the besiegers, who were totally defeated. The exterior of this dashing chief is exceedingly elegant and prepossessing. When at Paris he was called “le beau Yussuf,” and caused quite a furore, especially among the fair sex. His portrait may still be seen in the various print-shops, side by side with LamoriciÈre, Bugeaud, and the other “great guns” of the “ArmÉe d’Afrique.”

The first Foreign Legion employed by the French in Africa was transferred to Spain in 1835, and there used up, almost to a man. Another has since been raised, composed of men of all countries—Poles, Belgians, Germans of every denomination, a few Spanish Carlists, and even two or three Englishmen; the legion, like most corps of the same kind, is remarkable for the reckless valour and bad moral character of its members. The Polish battalion is the best and most distinguished. The others are not to be trusted; and only a very severe system of punishments preserves something like discipline in their ranks, where adventurers, deserters, and escaped criminals are the staple commodity. Bad as they are, they are eclipsed by the condemned regiments, known by the slang name of “Les Zephyrs” These are punished men, considered ineligible to serve again in their former regiments, and who are put together on the principle of there being no danger of contagion where all are infected. A taught hand is kept over them; they are insubordinate in quarters, but dare-devils in the field. It will easily be imagined that the duties assigned to these convict battalions are neither the most agreeable nor the least perilous. At present, however, a detachment is employed on no unpleasant service, the care of a experimental military farm, near the camp of El Arrouch, in the district of Constantina. Here they cultivate a considerable tract of land, both farm and garden, breed cattle, and supply the colonists with seeds, fruit-trees, and so forth. Workshops are attached to the farm, for the manufacture of agricultural implements. The men who work as artisans receive three-pence, and the field labourers three halfpence, in addition to their daily pay. “Since the commencement of the experiment,” says Captain Kennedy, “the offences that have been committed bear but a small proportion to those that formerly occurred during a similar period in garrison.” In these days of reform in our military system, might not some hints be taken from such innovations as these? If employment is found to diminish crime amongst a troop of convicts, it might surely be expected to do as much in regiments to which no stigma is attached, and the vices of those members are often solely to be attributed to idleness and its concomitant temptations. Of few men so largely talked of, and so justly celebrated, is so little positively known as of Abd-el-Kader. The contradictory accounts obtained from the tribes, the narratives of prisoners, who, from their very condition, were precluded from gathering other than partial and uncertain information, compose all the materials hitherto afforded for the history of this remarkable chieftain. Even his age is a matter of doubt, and has been variously stated, although it appears probable that he is now about forty years old. Seeing the great difficulty of obtaining authentic information, Captain Kennedy has abstained from nore than a brief reference to the Emir. At the period of his visit, Abd-el-Kader was not in the field, and his whereabout was very vaguely known—the French believing him to be “somewhere on the frontiers of Morocco.” In the absence, therefore, of trustworthy data, and of opportunities of personal observation, the captain says little on the subject. His reserve is unimitated by M. St Marie, who not only gives a detailed account of the Arab sultan, but prefixes to his book a portrait of that personage, with whom he claims to have had an interview. As regards the portrait, it may be as much like Abd-el-Kader as any other of the half-dozen we have met with, no two of which bore any similitude to each other. The account of the interview is rather marvellous. During his stay in the city of Algiers, M. St Marie went to breakfast with a young Belgian acquaintance, and found an Arab seated in his friend’s room, smoking a pipe. Refreshments were offered to the stranger, and, whilst he discussed them, the count had an opportunity of studying his countenance. He was struck with the dignity of his manner and deportment, and with his air of intellectual superiority, and was given to understand that he was sheik of a tribe friendly to the French. Breakfast over, the Arab departed. Two days afterwards, M. St Marie met his Belgian entertainer. “You were very fortunate the other day,” said the latter; “the Arab whom you saw, when breakfasting with me, was no other than the Emir himself.” And he proceeded to relate how Abd-el-Kader had entered the city with a party of peasants, carrying some chickens, which he sold in the marketplace, to prevent suspicion of his real character. He pledged his word to the truth of this statement, of whose accuracy the count appears satisfied. His readers will possibly be more incredulous. As a traveller’s story, the “yarn” may pass muster, and is, perhaps, not much out of place in the book where it is found. With it we conclude our notice of the rival “Algerias.” Those who desire further details of Bedouin douars and French encampments, of camels and Kabyles, razzias and the like, may seek and find them in the chronicle of the English captain, and the varied, but less authentic pages of the foreign count.