CHAPTER VIII. ON TO TUNIS.

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Algeria in general.––The Arabs and their Conquerors.––Antagonism between the Two Races.––Social Condition of the Arabs.––The Oasis steamer.––Arrival at Tunis.

On the 28th of March I left Bona in the steamer Oasis. The engine broke down shortly after leaving the port, and, as the sails were absolutely useless, we had the pleasant consciousness of drifting towards a lee shore; but in a short time the damage was luckily repaired, and we proceeded on our voyage.

The accounts I had heard of Algeria had not prepared me to find such a flourishing state of affairs as I really found to exist in the community. The colony possesses fine harbours, a magnificent soil, and a glorious climate; numerous towns, with good hotels, are springing up in the interior. It is true that many of the immigrants are not French, but the majority are of that nation; and all the inhabitants, after a few years, adopt the French manners and language. The non-Gallic population are chiefly Spaniards, Italians, Maltese, and Germans. I met only one party of English at Bona, where a community of eighteen souls 47 have been brought over by a Mr. Vincent; they appear to thrive very well. I was told that Count Z––– intended establishing an English village near Bona.

From the general prosperity, I, of course, except the Moors and Arabs, who will never, I believe, adopt European civilisation; they seem to recoil from before it, like the wild beasts of their native deserts.

The French people certainly pointed out to me in the towns one or two Europeanised Arabs, and laughed at the idea of their ever becoming “FranÇais.” From what I saw, the natives merely adopted the vices without the good qualities of the dominant race. If to be civilised consists in sitting in the cafÉs, drinking absinthe, playing cards, and speaking bad French, I certainly saw one or two most unquestionable specimens of the Arab adaptability to Gallic impressions; but, with the exception of these brilliant results, I never saw the least token of intercourse between the Moors and their conquerors; indeed, each nation may be said entirely to ignore the existence of the other. The peculiarity of Mussulman habits, with regard to women, entirely precludes all prospect of a future mixture of the two races––such an amalgamation, for instance, as occurred in our own country between the Norman-French conquerors and the conquered Saxons. So well are the French aware of this impossibility, that I have seen the question of the expediency of utterly expelling the Mussulmans from Algeria gravely discussed in the French journals.

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Another method proposed was, that the young Arabs who had attained the military age of from eighteen to twenty-two years, should be transferred to France, there to pass their period of service as infantry soldiers only, that opportunities might be found, during their “soldiering years,” for instructing them in agriculture, and the rudiments of civilised education. This appears to me a sufficiently feasible plan; but I suspect that the Arab converts to civilisation would, on their return to their native land, quickly relapse into their old idle, roving habits, their primitive mode of life, and their inborn hatred of the infidel, whom they now regard as an instrument sent by Providence to inflict vengeance on the true believer for his apathy, and culpable neglect of his religious duties, including the propagation of his faith by fire and sword. Still, they believe the time to be approaching when every true son of the prophet shall “hae his ain” again; and it is past the power of mortal man to shake a Mahometan’s trust and reliance on Destiny.

For the rest, the French behave with the greatest toleration towards all members of the Moorish faith, who are allowed to perform every rite of their religion, and polygamy even is permitted to prevail among the Mussulman population. At Bona, a very handsome mosque is being erected on the Grand Place by the Government. Tolerant themselves, the French refuse, with perfect justice, to suffer any display of bigotry or fanaticism on the part of the Mahometans towards the 49 Christian community; the consequence is, that the mosques and other resorts of Mahometans are all thrown open to European visitors.

My dog Nero was a most decided favourite on board the French steamer, Oasis. Everybody was caressing and patting him, from the captain to the stewardess, rather a nice young female, from Germany, who took him under her especial protection, and looked after his creature-comforts in a way that must have aroused the most lively gratitude in the canine bosom of the said Nero. Poor old dog! he seemed quite bewildered at the attention he received, not only here, but also on board the French man-of-war, the Tartar, where the French soldiers and sailors were crowding around him all day long, and overwhelming him with favours, in the shape of bits of meat, when they took their meals. A number of Arabs were sleeping about the deck. These children of the desert used to excite Nero’s especial wonder. Whenever he was let loose, he was sure to be sniffing about among the prostrate figures, examining their faces and bournouses, and often waking them up with a start, to the intense delight of the French tars.

On our arrival off La Goulette, the only anchorage for ships, situated about eight miles from Tunis, by sea, and nine miles by land, we were greeted by a scene of the most tremendous confusion. All the feluccas were rowed by Arabs, and their shouting, swearing, and gesticulation exceeded all my former 50 experiences of the kind, Stamboul not excepted. A little patience, and a good deal of backsheesh, enabled us to pass our baggage through the Douane; and we sent it on by boat to Tunis, whither we proceeded by land in a carriage, and a drizzling rain. Once on the way we stopped, at what the inhabitants term the “Carthaginian cistern,” to take in some exceedingly dirty water, from a fountain of old-fashioned appearance. The carriage windows were closed on account of the rain––an arrangement which interfered a good deal with my view of the surrounding country. Twice only, before we arrived at Tunis, my companion, a Russian, opened the window––to spit! On the first of these occasions, I got a glimpse of a large heap of immense stones, which were pointed out to me as the ruins of Carthage, and a grove of olives, looking dismal exceedingly in the drizzling rain. On the second occasion, I saw the lakes, and a solitary Tunisian sentinel. This soldier was dressed much in the Turkish costume, and I should scarcely have known him from an Osmanli, but that he wore the brass plaque in the front of his scarlet fez, instead of at the top.

As we approached Tunis, we became involved in an increasing crowd of loaded asses and mules; and, amid a great deal of screeching and shouting, we made our entry into the city, and drove to the HÔtel de France, where we obtained such a complete view of an old wall, that it effectually prevented us from seeing 51 anything else. The rooms, or rather holes, assigned to us, were so miserable, that we tried the solitary opposition shop the place can boast––the HÔtel de ProvenÇe––but found that here we should fare rather worse than in the HÔtel de France. There was a third establishment––a tavern, rejoicing in the magniloquent title of “Hotel of the Britannic Isles”––but as this hostelry was entirely occupied by sailors and Maltese skippers, we declined to avail ourselves of the “Britannic” accommodation. There was a great crowd of rather miscellaneous company at the table-d’hÔte. One French female, whom, without offence to gallantry, I may be permitted to describe as the ugliest woman I met in my travels, excited my especial horror. This charming person actually amused herself, and disgusted her neighbours, by indulging, across the table, in an amusement generally associated in men’s minds with the chewing of tobacco! I discovered, however, that she was only a servant maid.


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