Showing posts with label French. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French. Show all posts

Friday, June 24, 2011

THE FRENCH IN ALGIERS IN 1836.

Excerpts from: THE PRISONERS OF ABD-EL-KADER, FIVE MONTHS' CAPTIVITY AMONG THE ARABS.By M. A. DE PRANCE, LIEUTENANT IN THE FRENCH ARMY. Translated From The German And French By Lady Duff Gordon, Translator Of The Amber-Witch. NEW-YORK: WILEY AND PUTNAM, 161 BROADWAY. 1845. (Note: Believed to have actually been written in French by Ernest Alby and translated into English by the Arabist Lucie Duff Gordon.)


I had gone only a few steps, when a troop of Arabs suddenly poured out of a ravine, came down upon us at full gallop, and surrounded us on all sides. They advanced towards me, crying, "Semi! Semi!" (Friends! Friends!) Deceived by these exclamations, I turned to explain them to the Doctor, when one of the Arabs snatched at the musket which I held in my hand; this showed me their real intentions, and I instantly fired at the Arab who had tried to seize the musket, and broke his shoulder. He dropped his gun, which was loaded, and was forced to throw his arm round the neck of his horse to prevent falling off. I darted at the gun, but two Arabs took aim at my head, and as I turned away to avoid their fire, one ball gave me a slight wound on the head, and the other passed through my shirt and grazed my breast.
I had not lost sight of the wounded Arab's gun, and stooped again to pick it up, when something rough slipped over my face; I raised my hands to it, and felt a rope round my neck; at the same moment, a violent jerk brought me to the ground, and an Arab, who had the other end of the rope fastened to his saddle- bow, set off at full gallop.
My cries and entreaties were all in vain; the Arab spurred on his horse, and I was dragged half-strangled through rocks and briars. This horrible torture lasted some minutes, until the horse was forced by steep and stony ground to slacken his pace, when I got on my feet again. In spite of the wounds with which my face, hands, and legs were covered, and the stunning effects of such a shock, I still had strength to seize the cord so as to keep myself from being strangled, and to run forward and catch hold of the horse's tail.
But as soon as the other Arabs, who had been dispersed by the sailors sent to our assistance, rejoined their companions, I was loaded with abuse and stripped nearly naked. Our misfortune had been seen from the brig, which immediately fired upon the Arabs: but every shot cost me a fresh shower of blows, and the horse to which I was tied took fright at the noise and started forward, and I again fell to the ground; the Arabs ran after me, beating me all the time; and if by chance I succeeded in getting on my feet, my pitiless persecutor set off again at a gallop, casting looks of contempt upon me.
The incessant galloping of the horse, and the violent jerks of the cord which dragged and rolled me among the rocks and briars, leaving a track of blood behind me—the abuse and the blows of the Arabs, lasted a quarter of an hour: this sounds but a short time, but it seemed very long to me.
As soon as the Arabs thought themselves out of reach of pursuit, they halted in order to cut off my head. The rope was taken off my neck, my hands bound behind my back, and I was tied to a dwarf palm-tree. I was so tired, that I lay down upon the ground perfectly indifferent to the fate which I knew awaited all prisoners taken by the Arabs. I had but one sad thought, of my family and my poor sister; but this was soon driven away by the near approach of death, and the animated scene in which I, though chained and silent, was the principal person.
A violent discussion had arisen among the Arabs: they brandished their sabres over my head, and each claimed the pleasure of cutting it off, all crying at once, "I took him, I have a right to cut off his head;" and each, to prove the truth of his assertion, showed a fragment of my shirt or of my coat. The Arabs were already taking aim at one another, and exclaiming, "I ought to cut off his head, and I will kill you if you don't let me enjoy my rights," when a horseman galloped up and threw into my lap the head of Jonquie, one of the sailors; as I turned away in disgust at this horrible spectacle, I saw the Arab whom I had wounded lying on the ground about fifty paces off. He could scarcely support himself, and was endeavoring to aim at me with a pistol which he held in his left hand. But horsemen were every instant passing to and fro before him, and he dropped his hand, patiently awaiting the favorable moment to fire.
I was expecting the end of this horrible discussion with some impatience, when the arrival of another horseman changed the determination of the Arabs. This was Adda, a spy of Abd-el-Kader, who had often visited us at Arzew, where he feigned an intention of establishing himself, and allayed any suspicion we might entertain of him, by assuring us that his frequent visits were for the purpose of selecting some favorable spot for the settlement of his tribe. Delighted at the good-will he manifested towards us, we had frequently invited him to dinner. But the traitor had far different designs. He made use of his visits to mark the exact spot to which our cattle were driven: he had determined to seize them, and it was with that object that he had hidden himself in the ravine with the troop which had taken me prisoner.
When Adda saw them furiously disputing who should kill me, he exclaimed that I was an officer, and that Abd-el-Kader would give them much more for my head if it was left upon my shoulders, and would willingly replace the three horses they had lost if I were taken to him alive. But the Arabs still continued to brandish their yataghans over my head, with the most horrible imprecations against the dog of a Christian.
Adda used still stronger arguments; and when the dying Arab had been removed, it was decided that I should be presented alive to Abd-el-Kader, who was to choose the manner of my death, after paying my ransom and replacing the horses which our men had shot.
I was then released from the tree, and a rope was passed through the cord which bound my arms. An Arab took hold of either end, and we started for Old Arzew. After a march of two hours we reached Old Arzew. I was worn out with fatigue and suffering—naked, wounded, covered with dust and sweat, and dying of thirst: and I expected that my body would be left without burial at Arzew, while my head would serve to adorn Abd-el-Kader's tent.
As I was with the advanced guard of the Arabs, I was one of the first to arrive at Old Arzew. I threw myself upon the ground beside a fountain, and counted the troop which had attacked us as it defiled past me: there were about two hundred men. We halted for a quarter of an hour to rest the horses and to let the men eat a little. I was unable to swallow anything but a few figs and a little water, and had just dropped asleep when the chief gave the signal for departure, and I started under a guard of twenty-seven horsemen. Just as we were setting off, an Arab brought me a straw hat with poor Jonquie's head in it, and bade me carry it. I refused, and was instantly assailed on all sides by blows and abuse, and cries of "Carry the head, dog of a Christian." "I will die first," said I, throwing myself on the ground; and the Arabs were about to dispatch me with the butt-ends of their rifles, when Adda, who was very anxious to deliver me alive to Abd-el-Kader, interposed. The head was hung to the saddle-bow of one of the Arabs, and after venting their ill-humor on me by more blows, we started.
+ + +
At length I fell, exhausted with fatigue. It was three o'clock, and I had walked since five in the morning, and my feet were torn and bleeding. The Arabs mounted me on one of their horses, but in a quarter of an hour the owner of it dragged me off its back by my leg. I walked for two hours more, and then rode again. At length we arrived about nightfall at the camp of the Borgia tribe.
Here I was exposed to the blows, insults, and spittings of men, women, and children. A tent was pitched for my guards into which I was but half admitted, and I lay on the earth beyond the carpet.
Our party had chickens boiled with kuskussu for supper, which they ate voraciously; I should have been very glad of a bit, but they considered me unworthy of such a dainty, and flung me a handful of kuskussu, which I could not swallow, as it was dry and bad, and my throat was so sore. After supper the Arabs returned my shirt to me and sent a negro to put irons on my feet. My legs were so swollen that the pain of forcing the irons to shut brought tears into my eyes: this treatment was as useless as it was cruel, for I was not able to stand, much less to run away. I stretched myself on the bare ground and slept soundly till the next morning, when the brutal negro woke me by giving a violent shake to the irons on my feet, which hurt me dreadfully.
I endeavored to rise, but instantly fell again; my feet were lacerated and swollen, and all my wounds ached with cold and fatigue. The Arabs, seeing that if they compelled me to walk I should soon expire by the road side, at length gave me a horse to ride, and we continued our journey towards Abd-el-Kader's camp, which was not above ten leagues off. But for fear I should be too comfortable they hung poor Jonquie's head at my saddle-bow: it was already in a state of putrefaction, and the Arabs, seeing the horror and loathing with which it inspired me, amused themselves by piercing it with their swords and yataghans to increase the smell by exposing the brains to the action of the sun and air.
+ + +
Abd-el-Kader's camp stood in a grove of fig trees, on the road from Mascara to Mostaganem, and the tracks of the wheels of the French artillery were still visible in the very midst of it. On arriving at the first tent my guards forced me to dismount, and in a moment I was surrounded by a host of Arabs of every age and both sexes, shouting and screaming—"Son of dog," “Dog of a Christian," “Cut off his head," &c, with the usual accompaniment of blows and spitting.
Presently the chaous came to my rescue, and by dint of vigorous blows they at last succeeded in delivering me from the hands of these savages, and conducted me to Abd-el-Kader's tent. My first reception in the camp had not been of a kind fitted to dispel the fears with which I went into his presence.
But as soon as Abd-el-Kader saw the pallor of my face he smiled and motioned me to sit, saying, "As long as thou art with me fear neither insult nor ill usage."
Emboldened by this gracious reception I asked him for something to drink, as, thanks to my guards, I had not drank since the day before. Abd-el-Kader immediately ordered me to be conducted to the tent which served as a store-house, and there I received a melon, some grapes, white bread, and water. The melon was so good, the water so cool, and Abd-el-Kader's manner had been so humane, that my hopes and my appetite revived. After devouring the melon and drinking a whole jar of water, I was again led into the Sultan's presence. His tent is the most magnificent in the camp: it is thirty feet long and eleven feet high; the inside is lined with hangings of various colors, covered with arabesques and crescents in red, blue, green, and yellow. A woollen curtain divides it into two unequal parts, in the furthermost and smaller of which is a mattress on which the Sultan sleeps. At the further end is a small entrance for the service of the tent and the slaves especially attached to the person of the Sultan: these are Ben Abu and Ben Faka, of whom I shall have to say more hereafter. During the day the tent remains open and accessible to all.
On the ground, in one corner, lie four silken flags rolled up: these are borne before Abd-el-Kader on every march by four horsemen; the first flag, belonging to the cavalry, is red; the second, that of the infantry, has a horizontal yellow stripe between two blue ones; the third, two horizontal stripes—one green and the other white; and the fourth is half red and half yellow. Every Friday these flags are unfurled in front of the Sultan's tent. There is also a small mattress covered with a carpet, on which lie two red silk cushions; at each end of the mattress is a chest, and behind it two other chests; the whole is then covered with a carpet, and forms Abd-el-Kader's sofa: the chests contain his clothes and money. A carpet is spread on the ground for strangers. These things, together with a high footstool, covered with red silk, which serves the Sultan as a horseblock, constitute all the furniture of the Sultan's tent.
The tent is always guarded by thirty negroes, who are never relieved, and have no other bed than the earth. A good many chaous are always in attendance, ready to obey the commands of their ruler.
I will now endeavor to describe a man, of whom at present very little is known. From all that I had heard, I expected to find a bloodthirsty barbarian, always ready to cut off heads: my expectations were false indeed.
Abd-el-Kader is twenty-eight years of age and very small, his face is long and deadly pale, his large black eyes are soft and languishing, his mouth small and delicate, and his nose rather aquiline; his beard is thin but jet black, and he wears a small mustachio, which gives a martial character to his soft and delicate face, and becomes him vastly. His hands are small and exquisitely formed, and his feet equally beautiful; the care he takes of them is quite coquettish: he is constantly washing them, and paring and filing his nails with a small knife with a beautifully-carved mother-of-pearl handle, which he holds all the while as he sits crouching on his cushions with his toes clasped between his fingers.
His dress is distinguished by the most studied simplicity; there is not a vestige of gold or embroidery on any part of it. He wears a shirt of very fine linen, the seams of which are covered with a silk braid terminating in a small silk tassel. Over the shirt is a haick, and over the haick two white bernouses; the uppermost garment is a black bernouse. A few silk tassels are the only ornaments about his dress; he wears no arms in his girdle, his head is shaved, and covered by three or four scull-caps, one within the other, over which he draws the hood of his bernouse.
Abd-el-Kader's father, who died about two years ago, was a marabout called Mahadin, who, by means of his fortune, his intelligence, and his character for sanctity, had acquired very great fame and influence among the Arabs. Twice in his life he had made the pilgrimage to Mecca, and prostrated himself before the tomb of the Prophet. In his second journey he was accompanied by his son, who was but eight years old. Young as he was, Abd-el-Kader acquired a great deal of useful experience, and learned Italian: he could already read and write Arabic. After returning from their pious journey, Mahadin instructed his son in the difficult study of the Koran, and at the same time taught him the conduct of affairs.
As soon as we had concluded a peace with the Arabs after the taking of Algiers, Abd-el-Kader employed himself in exciting the tribes to revolt, in feeding and exasperating their animosity towards us, in stirring up their religious fanaticism, and above all, in endeavoring to obtain the sovereign power over them. This, the talent, the energy, the bravery, and the cunning of the young marabout soon procured for him; he quickly became their chief, and is now their Sultan.
The second time that I went to the Sultan's tent, he was seated on some cushions with his Secretaries and some marabouts, crouching in a semicircle on either side of him: his smiling and graceful countenance contrasted charmingly with the stupid, savage faces around him. The Chief Secretary first attracted my attention by his Tartuffe expression, and the rogue has always persuaded Abd-el-Kader to ask a large sum for my ransom.
The Sultan, with a smile of the greatest kindness, bade me be seated, and asked me, in Arabic, my name and where I was taken, and on my answering his questions, told me to fear nothing so long as I was with him.
+ + +
We were awakened very early next morning by the roll of a drum very ill beaten; I instantly rose and spent the whole day in wandering about the camp, and observing the habits and the discipline of Abd-el-Kader's soldiery.
The tents of the infantry are pitched in a circle which encloses those of the cavalry; each tent contains fifteen or twenty men, whose horses are tethered outside with ropes, tied round their fore-feet.
The Sultan's tent stands in the very centre of the camp, with an open space before it for his horses and those of his attendants: he always has eight or ten horses ready for his own use. A straight avenue is left from the front of his tent to the very edge of the camp where a cannon is placed with its muzzle turned towards the plain. This is the Sultan's whole artillery, and in very bad order it is. When I was there it was mounted on a broken French carriage, and the touch-hole was so large that the powder flew out from it in a perfect stream of fire, and burned the hands of the Arabs who fired it. It was only used for salutes and rejoicings. Close to the cannon is the gunner's tent. Behind Abd-el-Kader's tent is that of the muleteers, and round it are picketed the mules which carry the baggage. Near the kitchen tent are a hundred camels which carry the barley and the biscuits for the soldiers, and a flock of sheep and goats, one of which is given to each tent every Friday. Each tent furnishes two men every night to guard the camp,—one watches from sunset till midnight, the other from midnight till daybreak. During the day there are no guards. As soon as it dawns the drum beats and the watch is relieved. A small quantity of detestable biscuit, full of dust and straw, is given to each soldier, and the horsemen give a measure of barley to their horses; they only let them drink once a day, at five o'clock, p.m. At four p.m. the soldiers have a meal of boiled barley, and the chiefs of kuskussu.
+ + +

The Arab cavalry now wear a red jacket and Turkish trowsers of the same color, with a haick and bernouse over them, and slippers on their feet; they have a rifle, a sabre, and a dozen cartridges in a box slung over the shoulder with a belt, which never leaves them. Their saddles are made of wood, with a loose cover of morocco leather, and so high before and behind that the rider sits as in a box; the stirrup leathers are very short and the stirrups very large, with sharp points which serve for spurs: they, however, wear spurs besides, which are here iron spikes about eight or ten inches long. Only the horses belonging to merchants, and destined for long journeys, are shod, but none of Abd-el-Kader's. The horsemen put six or eight coarse blankets on their horses' backs to keep the wooden saddle from wounding them. In spite of this precaution, however, nearly all the Arab horses are galled on the back: they are never groomed, but merely have some water dashed all over them when they are taken to drink; they are exposed by day and by night to rain, heat and cold; and accordingly an Arab horse seldom lasts more than six years.
The infantry wear a woollen vest, Turkish trowsers, a black jacket with a hood, and slippers: like the cavalry, they have a rifle, a cartridge box, and a knife at their girdle; the richest among them add to this a dagger, pistols, and a yataghan.
In the camp, as well as in all other places, the Arabs pray six times a day,—at three, six, and eight in the morning, at noon, and at four and eight in the evening: at the hours of devotion the marabouts turn to the four cardinal points and call the faithful to prayer with a slow and solemn voice, saying, “God is God, and Mahomed is his prophet; come and worship them." A marabout then recites the prayer in each tent. The faithful begin by rubbing their hands and faces with dust; they respond to every act of devotion of the marabout with an inclination at the words “God is great," and kiss the ground in token of humility; as soon as the prayer is ended they wash their faces. The band plays three times a day before Abd-el-Kader's tent: three musicians standing, play the hautboy, three others, also standing, beat the tambourine with a stick, and three seated on the ground, play with small sticks upon bowls covered with goat-skin. Their repertoire is very scanty. I never heard more than three tunes, which they perform till the Sultan is tired and dismisses them by a sign.
Each chief has a coffee-maker in his retinue. These coffee-makers erect a tent to which the Arabs go to drink coffee and smoke very bad green tobacco.
+ + +
I had already asked the Sultan's permission to write to Algiers and Oran, to acquaint the authorities with my captivity, and my arrival at Abd-el-Kader's camp. At eight o'clock that evening I was conducted to his tent, where he gave me his own pen, made of a reed, a bit of coarse paper about the size of my hand, and his inkstand, which was made of brass, of an oblong shape, with an inkbottle at one end and a drawer for the pens at the other. A slave brought a brass candlestick, such as stand on the altar of a village church in France. I lay on the ground, and with the Sultan's jewel-box for a table, I wrote one letter to Admiral Dufresne, and another to General Rapatel, describing the sufferings of Abd-el-Kader's captives, and entreating them to negotiate our exchange as quickly as possible. I then delivered the two letters to Abd-el-Kader, who promised to forward them next day.
We were awakened very early in the morning by the chief of our tent shouting, “Dogs of Christians, sons of dogs, get up! the tent is coming down, for the Sultan has ordered the camp to be raised." Scarce were the words out of his mouth than the whole tent came tumbling down upon Meurice and myself. This was one of the thousand pleasantries with which the Arabs continually entertained us. We were still struggling to disentangle ourselves from the tent, in which we lay caught like fish in net, when a drum beat the reveille, which was followed in a few minutes by the signal of march for the infantry, which accordingly started. The camels, mules, and pack horses were immediately loaded with all the camp equipage, stowed in panniers woven of the leaves of the dwarf palm. A third beat of the drum gave the signal of departure to the muleteers and camel drivers. Meurice and I were placed in the centre of this detachment, which was under the command of Ben Faka. In obedience to the Sultan's order, we were mounted on the two mules which carry Abd-el-Kader's own coffers; the Italian sailors were worse off,—they rode on camels. Among the baggage, I observed eight very ill-joined chests; these contained the reserve cartridges. Whenever the camp is raised Abd-el-Kader, who, like every other Arab, begins his prayers at three in the morning, does not cease from them until all the other tents are struck, and it is time for the slaves to strike his; he then quits it, and seats himself at a short distance on a silken cushion surrounded by the marabouts and chiefs. Meanwhile the horsemen assemble, and place themselves in a line on his right hand, with Muftar at their head, and the thirty negro slaves are drawn up in a line on his left. The chiefs and the marabouts next mount their horses, and as soon as the baggage has passed the limits of what was the camp, a slave comes forward leading the Sultan's horse, followed by another bearing the footstool which he uses as a horse-block. Abd-el-Kader's favorite horse is a magnificent black charger; he is the best rider I ever saw among the Arabs; and as his legs are disproportionately short for the length of his body, the Arab fashion of short stirrups, by concealing this defect, sets off his figure to great advantage, and his appearance on horseback is at once graceful and imposing. As soon as the Sultan is mounted, the chiefs give the signal of departure; the nine musicians ride at the head of the column, followed by eight Arabs bearing long rifles in red cloth cases; I have often asked leave to examine them, but the Arabs always answered, “They are the arms of the Sultan; a dog of a Christian like thee is not worthy to be hold them." Next came four more horsemen bearing the four flags which I have already described, and then Abd-el-Kader, in the centre of a line of horsemen: behind him are the thirty negroes, and they are followed by all the rest of the cavalry pell-mell. The Arabs never set out on an expedition until the sun has risen.
No order or discipline is kept on their marches; thus, if a soldier sees a fruit tree, or a solitary tent, he leaves the line to strip the one or pillage the other.
Two strangely-harnessed mules, more lean and broken-winded than hackney-coach horses, drag the solitary cannon. Not a day passes on which it is not overturned and half buried in the mud.
+ + +
Abd-el-Kader laid a double tax upon the surrounding tribes to punish them for having given a favorable reception to Ibrahim, Bey of Mostaganem. Every day the horsemen brought to the camp great booty in horses, sheep, and oxen; and in Abd-el-Kader's tent the whole day was passed in counting the money which had been seized: this does not imply that the sums were immense, but that the Arabs count over their money ten or fifteen times. The Chief Secretary, whom by virtue of his office I am bound to consider as the most enlightened man in the camp, used frequently to come into our tent, and crouching behind a bale of goods, entirely hidden under his haick, count and recount his money for hours together. In spite of the most stringent measures and of the zeal displayed by the Kaits in collecting the tribute, it was hard to make the Arabs pay it, and Abd-el-Kader sent a party of horsemen to their tents, who returned in the evening laden with every kind of booty, and driving before them herds of horses, cattle, sheep, women, children, and negroes.
At the news of the arrival of these prisoners a number of Arabs came to the camp, in order to see whether they might not be able to buy a few negroes, or a woman or so, at bargain. If, after casting a rapid glance over the slaves who were crouching on the ground, the buyer saw one whose appearance struck his fancy, he made him rise and examined all his limbs, as we examine a horse or a bull, made him open his mouth, and, if it was a woman, pressed her breasts to see whether there was milk in them. The unfortunate wretches bore it all with the most perfect indifference, and when the bargain was struck, they followed their new masters with an air of utter insensibility.
Among the prisoners for sale who were in our tent, was a beautiful black girl of about fourteen; she had large soft black eyes, lips like coral, and teeth like the pearls set in the handle of a yataghan; her legs were like those of a race horse, and her feet and hands smaller than those of a Spanish woman; her shape was perfect, and the slenderness of her waist contrasted beautifully with the fulness of her hips; for the poor girl, contrary to the custom of the women of' this country, had confined her white haick round her middle with a red worsted cord. Her beauty, and the fineness and cleanness of her dress, clearly showed that she had been the property of wealthy people. The poor girl laid herself on the ground beside me, weeping and lamenting, and refused the food that was offered to her.
Seeing her so beautiful and so unhappy, I tried to comfort her; but she said, “I was so happy in the tent from which they robbed me, and now I shall be made to sleep outside with the horses: I shall have no kuskussu to eat, and I shall wear a torn and dirty haick;" and she wept again.
Before long, a chief of the Garrabas came into the tent: he had brought the head of a French soldier whom he had surprised that morning in a field near Mostaganem, so that he was welcome in the camp. He was rich and wanted to buy slaves. At the sight of the young negress his eyes brightened with pleasure, and he ordered her to rise. The slave obeyed, she was subjected to the most minute examination and found faultless. The Garraba turned to Ben Faka, and said, “Fifty boutjous!"
"I must have eighty boutjous (JS10) for her," said Ben Faka. “She is not worth them."
“Did'st thou ever see so beautiful a negress?—Open thy mouth." The slave obeyed.
“Look,what teeth! there is not one missing!—Walk." The slave walked.
“What hips! what a firm and graceful step! She is a virgin too. Open thy haick and thy shift." The slave did as she was commanded.
“Press her breasts; she has no more milk than a new-born lamb. Don't weep, slave, or the chaous shall dry thyt ears with his stick." The girl wiped her eyes.
“Eighty boutjous."
“Sixty. She is not strong; she will not be able to carry the dung out of the stable."
“In two years she will carry the dung of all the horses belonging to thy tent. Eighty boutjous."
“Seventy."
“Her hands are delicate; she has never worked. Eighty boutjous. Yea or nay? the Sultan waits for me."
The Garraba paid them and bade his slave follow him; the poor girl left the tent, fixing on me her eyes bathed in tears. I saw the Garraba stop at the Sultan's tent to receive the price of the Frenchman's head, and in a few minutes they left the camp, and I lost sight of the poor black girl.
+ + +
On the morning of the l0th of September Abd-el-Kader started, with all his forces and the solitary cannon, to attack the Flitas and Houledscherifs, leaving one man to each tent to guard the camp. The insurgent tribes, who were prepared for an attack, had already sent their women, children and cattle, up into the mountains, and the Sultan found them drawn up in order of battle on the high mountain which skirts the plain of Milianah, at the marabout nearest to the Ouet Mina and the Schellif. The fight lasted the whole day, and the cannon was fired seven or eight times, loaded with stones in default of balls. In the evening Abd-el-Kader returned to the camp, bringing back twelve dead and eight wounded. I never could obtain any precise account of the result of the battle, but the dejection of the Sultan and his troops plainly showed that they had not been victorious. The horsemen brought back five heads, and drove before them a troop of women and children who had not been able to reach the mountains: the unfortunate creatures were all thrown into the prisons of Mascara. One man had been taken alive: he was brought before the Sultan as soon as the latter had dismounted.
“Thou wert taken among the rebels?”
"I was."
“What hast thou to say in thy defence?"
“I was compelled to fight against thee."
“Thou shouldst then have fled to my camp."
“But"—
“Enough."
Abd-el-Kader raised his hand, and the unhappy man was dragged away by the chaous. One of the chaous had lost his son in the battle, and had seen his head hanging to the saddle-bow of a Beni-Flita; with tears and lamentations he now implored the other chaous to grant him the favor of putting the prisoner to death with his own unaided hand. He at last obtained it, and immediately rushed upon the Beni-Flita, and cut off his hands and feet with his yataghan. The children shouted for joy at this horrid sight, and the revengeful father watched with delight the hideous contortions of the victim who rolled in the dust at his feet, shrieking with rage and pain, and imploring his tormentor to cut off his head. When the Beni-Flita at length fainted from loss of blood, the chaous passed a rope round his middle, and dragged him by it outside the enclosure of the camp; the children brought together a quantity of brushwood and dry branches, and set fire to them, and on this pile the chaous threw the still living Beni-Flita.
It was night, and the flames threw a lurid glare upon the dark tents: the piercing shrieks of the Beni-Flita long sounded through the camp. I covered my head with my haick, and groaned when I thought that only a few leagues from this savage camp were the outposts of a noble and generous nation.
Within a few days of my arrival at Abd-el-Kader's camp, I was covered with the lice with which the Arabs are infested. The Sultan himself in the midst of the most serious discussion picks them off his haick, rolls them gravely between his finger and thumb, and throws them upon the carpet. These vermin are of a monstrous size, white with a black stripe along the back, which swells with the blood they suck from their unhappy victims. Fortunately for us, they did not much frequent our hair and beards, but they laid their eggs in the seams of our clothes, and were hatched upon us in myriads. The Arabs are so used to them that they treated us with the greatest scorn when they saw our efforts to rid ourselves of these tormentors. One day we asked Abd-el-Kader to allow us to bathe in the Ouet Mina, in order to wash off the vermin and the dust with which our bodies were covered. The Sultan granted our request, and sent one of his negroes to protect us against the Arabs. I cannot describe the pleasure of stretching our weary and heated limbs in the clear cool water; but in two days the dust and the lice were as bad as ever. We slept on the bare ground, and as the nights were intensely cold we crept close to each other, but as soon as the blood began to circulate at all in our benumbed bodies, the lice resumed their attacks, and we again sought the cold to escape from their intolerable pricking.
+ + +
I will not attempt to describe the reception I met with from my brother officers, nor my subsequent illness, nor how delightful it was to be nursed by my countrymen. Francesco, Madame Laurent, the German, and Crescenso were sent to the hospital at Algiers, where they lay ill for some time. The other prisoners were soon released, except the wife and daughter of M. Lanternies and the two German women, who are still in the possession of the Emperor of Morocco. I obtained Mardulin's pardon, and contrived to communicate it to him: he escaped from Mascara with some orange merchants of Blidah, and is now enrolled among the Spahis.
As I was on the point of embarking for France I heard myself greeted on the quay, and on turning round I saw Benedicto dressed in a new suit of clothes. “Where are you going, Benedicto?” said I. "To my mother Maria, who has sent me these fine clothes; I am going on board with Francesco and Crescenso, to sail to Genoa, where she is waiting for me."
On arriving at Marseilles, I hastened to visit the Arab prisoners, with the full intention of repaying them some of the cruelty I had endured from their countrymen. I however confined my revenge to inviting two of them to dinner: one, who was a marabout, would not eat, because of the Rhamadan; but the other ate and drank wine and brandy like any Christian. He pressed me to return to his country, where he promised to give me quantities of horses and sheep, to receive me into his tent as his guest, and to watch over me while I slept. After dinner I took him to the theatre, and ended by conducting him to his barracks and helping him to bed, for he had transgressed the law of the Prophet, and was drunk.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Easter in Jerusalem in 1860

For Easter we have a description of religious ceremonies that took place in Jerusalem in 1860 which is extracted from: EGYPTIAN SEPULCHRES AND SYRIAN SHRINES, INCLUDING A VISIT TO PALMYRA. By: EMILY A. (BEAUFORT) VISCOUNTESS STRANGFORD, AUTHOR OF 'THE EASTERN SHORES OF THE ADRIATIC.' NEW EDITION. London: MACMILLAN AND CO. 1874. All Rights Reserved.

The services on Good Friday were really impressive; we were at the door of the Holy Sepulchre before 6 A.M. and found it closed, as the service had commenced some time earlier; but the French Consul had left two kawasses to conduct us into the chapel of Calvary, where chairs had been provided for us beside his own. The chapel was almost entirely dark, and densely crowded; the vestments used by the priests were all of black velvet embroidered in silver. The Patriarch had given up his place to Monseigneur Spaccapietra, an old Archbishop, who had lately arrived on a special mission of inquiry from the Pope: a fine-hearted and enlightened old man. The service, which was most solemnly and reverentially conducted, consisted of the Gospel narrative of the Passion of our Lord, and the words of the Saviour, of the people and of Pilate, recited by different voices. The old Archbishop chanted the Scripture with much earnestness and simplicity — but he was in Jerusalem for the first time in his life, he was worn out with a severe attack of the fever and with fasting, he was standing on the very spot where, the tradition of his church told him, the Redeemer had suffered, and when he came to the portion describing the consummation of that awful Sacrifice, the gentle-hearted old man was so completely overcome, that he laid his head on the altar and sobbed aloud; and a thousand times more impressive than all the splendour of the services on the previous days was it to see the aged, silver-haired Archbishop realizing the sacred and sorrowful story with such an intensity of earnestness as made the solemn words themselves come doubly home to the heart.

In the evening the church was so densely crowded that it required all the efforts of the six kawasses of the French Consul to get us to our places and to preserve us from utter suffocation : the people of Bethlehem come over in great numbers to attend the Franciscan service, which is given entirely for them; the Patriarch and all the superior clergy disapprove greatly of the sacred farce into which it has degenerated. Unfortunately the Franciscans and the Patriarch are often at issue concerning the services, and it was on this account that the Pope had sent Monseigneur Spaccapietra to decide between them; both, however, agreed in denying the power of the Pope over either of them on the subjects in dispute.

The service is performed by the Franiscan monks, and consists in the taking of a figure of the Saviour down from the Cross, and removing each nail and the crown of thorns, with many kisses. After this six or seven short sermons were preached in various parts of the church, each in a different language, by monks appointed to the task, who are at least supposed to have studied the language they preach in; when we had heard the French sermon we did not regret that the crowd prevented our getting near enough to hear the others. The last was preached in Spanish, before the Sepulchre, which was dimly illuminated only with the torches and candles carried in the procession, the whole of the Rotunda remaining in darkness: it had a very fine effect. This service was not over till near midnight.

On the Saturday, Easter Eve, some curious ceremonies are observed. After the customary benediction of the baptismal water for the year and the lighting of a new lamp, the priests assembled before the entrance of the Sepulchre; twelve or thirteen chapters of the Gospels were read recounting the events of the week, and when that part of the narrative was reached describing the placing of our Lord in the Tomb, the Patriarch, dressed in a plain white robe with a priest on each side of him in a white surplice, laid themselves flat on the ground on their faces, before the door of the Sepulchre. Psalms and hymns were chanted for about half an hour before they rose, and throughout the mass that followed the two priests knelt on one knee at each side of the door of the tomb, exactly as the angels are always represented in old pictures of the Entombment.

The services of these days were dreadfully long, and the poor little children of the French school fell asleep with their heads on each other's shoulders, like rows of little scarlet ninepins, but else, every person joining in them had the appearance of thoroughly reverential devotion. The good Patriarch is rigidly strict in his own fasts, and by the afternoon of this Saturday he was so weak that his voice was nearly inaudible and his face flushed with fever.

On the following Friday evening we went again to the Holy Sepulchre to see the Good Friday ceremonies of the Greeks and Armenians; the Greeks of course take the precedence, but the Armenians join themselves on at the latter end without much confusion. As the French Consul did not wish to parade himself and his kawasses in the church this night, we were placed under the care of Signor Pierotti, who is so great a favourite with the Turkish authorities and with many of the Greeks, that everything was thus made easy for us. The church belongs to ten Turks, one or more of whom must be present on all the greater days of ceremony: there is also a guard of a few soldiers appointed by the Pasha, who are always to be seen sitting in a recess at the entrance; it is by their permission that any one enters. The officers and the Bimbashi (the chief of the battalion) were most polite and pressing in their attentions to us the moment they saw we were friends of Signor Picrotti's, and insisted on our taking their chairs to stand upon when the crowd became too dense for us to stem or to see through.

The ceremony began in the square before the door of the church, with a very long procession, from the convent, of the Greek Bishops and clergy joined by a number of Copts, chanting all the while they perambulated the little square lighted by the lanterns and torches they carried in their hands; then the Copts entered the little chapel which belongs to them on the north side of the square, in the south wall of the church, and the Greeks entering at the great door went into their own large chapel in the centre, under the second dome, which was most brilliantly illuminated with a circle of lamps round the lowest edge of the dome and a double cross across it, which showed well against the dark height above it. After a long service here the procession ascended to Calvary (which the Greeks share with the Latins). Both chapels were at once crowded to that degree of denseness that neither hand nor foot could move save those of the celebrants, and as every one held a lighted candle in his hand, the heat was suffocating, as indeed it had been almost to fainting, on the Good Friday night of the Latins. All the clergy wore splendid copes of black velvet richly embroidered with silver. After some prayers the Russian Bishop Kyrillos, mounted one step of the altar, and, facing the people, addressed them in what appeared to us an unimpassioned almost monotonous manner, but it must have been effective, for, one after another, most of the Greeks around us were moved to tears. After this they descended to the 'Stone of unction," where an old and much respected Bishop again addressed the people— this time with much energy and warmth—to which they listened with earnest attention.

We then mounted into the gallery of the Latins which the French Consul had kindly engaged for us, and waited there till the procession came round: it was really very grand indeed: the Rotunda was brilliantly illuminated, and several rows of silver lamps and flowers were hung round the sepulchre itself in festoons; the Bishops appeared innumerable: among them the venerable Bishop of Petra and the Archbishop of Tabor with his long dark beard were striking objects. All were most splendidly attired in robes and copes of every hue covered with gold and silver embroidery, and all bore crosses or pictures of saints in their folded hands, which the pilgrims pressed forward to kiss: some of the Bishops had kawasses on each side of them, and as they went they chanted the Te Deum and some psalms with an earnest heartiness that seemed as if the procession was not all for show— there was no irreverence this day—each one looked grave and serious. Several ancient banners, said to be some of those used in the armies of the Crusaders, were carried round at the head of the procession; they represented scenes of the Passion, some of which were very well done in painting and embroidery; after them came a really interesting relic of olden times, the alleged history of which is believed to be correct: this was the banner of the Emperor Heraclins, which was borne before him when he entered Jerusalem bringing back the "true Cross;" this relic is considered too precious to be seen by any one except on this day, for all the rest of the year it is most carefully locked up; it was now borne by four Bishops, whose pious hands each held a corner, and had been placed on the altar of Calvary during the service; we could see that it was a most singular piece of embroidered work, representing the Saviour in his Tomb, with an inscription surrounding it as a border. The procession went round the Rotunda three times, and then a very short service was performed within the Sepulchre itself; it finished about 1 A.M. We walked round the church before going home to see the curious sight of the Greek pilgrims covering every available morsel of ground to secure places for the "Holy Fire" on the morrow; they had been in the church the whole of this day for the purpose, and now one and all, men and women, boys and girls, lay in heaps, like mere bundles of clothing, fast asleep, with here and there a foot or a leg sticking out from the heap. Great numbers of the Latin pilgrims also consider it a meritorious act to spend one night in the church: some few employ it in prayer and devotional exercises, but the greater part retire to the Latin gallery, where quantities of cushions are provided, and sleep away as comfortably as possible. The church is never left unguarded; a few Priests or monks of both communions are invariably there by night and by day.

The morrow—Saturday—was of course the day for the Greeks; and at a very early hour travellers are obliged to take their places in the church before the crowd becomes too dense or too uproarious for Franks to penetrate. But the full glory of that strange, wild scene of tumult, called the "Greek Holy Fire," has passed away; the ceremony is conducted with as much splendour and superstition as ever: but in the previous year, 1859, Sooraya Pasha, having witnessed the whole affair with his own eyes, was so much shocked and disgusted with the make-believe miracle, and with the disgraceful scenes which took place under the excitement of religious frenzy, that on this occasion he concerted plans with the French Consul, and lined the whole church with his soldiers, separating the pilgrims into such small bodies, and keeping such strict order among them, that neither enthusiasm nor confusion could break out into anything very frantic.

The Superior of the Greek convent had had the extreme politeness to place the whole of the upper gallery round the dome of the Holy Sepulchre at the service of the French Consul: the key was sent to him the day before, and a guard of soldiers waited to conduct us through the crowd in the large convent up to the rickety, dilapidated, half-ruined place it was, so that we were not obliged to go there more than an hour before the service commenced; chairs were already placed for us, and lemonade and coffee followed; the gallery was the most delightful place to see from, as we could thus walk round the whole building and see the crowd on every side.

Very amusing indeed it was to watch the pilgrims being packed more and more densely into their places, after having struggled and fought to secure the nearest spot possible to the hole in the marble wall of the Sepulchre whence the Fire was to issue; the soldiers allowed them to struggle to a certain point, beyond that, when mischief seemed brewing, the combatants were separated and stopped. Every few minutes some man or group of men amongst them seemed trying to excite himself and his neighbours up to howl and yell and dance: sometimes they made short runs, in the wild manner described by former travellers, sometimes one man running with two others, or even three, standing on his shoulders: but their frenzy and excitement seemed put on, as if acted, and soon came to an end, the warmth of their religious feelings was damped or blighted by the presence of the Mooslims, and the flames of its fire in a manner quenched. Not the least amusing part to me was the crowd of spectators in the lower gallery: such a motley company as they were: the venerable Roman Archbishop Monseigneur Spaccapietra and his Maronite secretary, beside a number of noisy irreverent Americans, and two or three grave Presbyterians. Then came the French caravan, a score of gentlemen organised into a travelling party under the special protection of their Government, and therefore of course occupying the best places in the Latin gallery: next to them a young Austrian baron, keeping somewhat hidden behind a column lest some fanatic in the multitude might recognise him as one of the Jews who are forbidden to enter the building: he was safe enough where he was, but if a Jew were seen in the crowd he would most probably be torn in pieces. Close to him were the fair, quiet faces of the Comte de Paris and Duc du Chartres; and beyond them a number of young English gentlemen, one of whom, before long, got into a squabble with an unfortunate monk who had remonstrated against the overbearing insolence with which the Englishman, according to the custom of John Bull, had endeavoured to take the best place from one of the French caravan, and who so far forgot himself and the place he was in as to strike the Franciscan. The French Consul had much ado to soothe, scold, and appease the wounded feelings of the poor monk into forgiveness and forgetfulness of the insult, while we blushed for shame at the unseemly conduct of a countryman: but alas! such occurrences are but too common among those who would be the first to revenge any disturbance or irreverence shown by a foreigner in our churches at home, but who have the stupid folly of thinking they assert the dignity of their own religion by deliberately insulting those with whom they do not agree. Whatever they may believe or disbelieve
themselves, it is simply disgusting to see an Englishman walking about the Church of the Holy Sepulchre with his hat on, or to hear loud voices profaning the sanctity of the place; and one grieves to think, however wanting they may be in sentiments of piety or religion, that they should not have learned either good taste or good feeling enough to keep away from places sanctified to others, unless they can refrain from such conduct as is not only unchristian and ungentlemanly, but indecent.

The crowd had now become quite dense, and were so well packed that there could be no more striving to get near the wall of the Sepulchre, or to displace the three happy men—wild, insane-looking creatures they were—who had had their hands clenched in the sacred hole for several hours : cries were continually being raised, and the same words constantly repeated with a sort of scream ; of course we supposed these to be, as they have frequently been reported by travellers, expostulations with, and reproaches to the Almighty for delaying to send down the Fire, but previous experience of Latin misrepresentation of all Greek doings made us inquire from a Greek gentleman on whom we could depend the meaning of each cry as it arose; it turned out that the exclamations were "This is the house of God—this is the tomb of the Saviour—this is the day on which He rose from the dead—let us raise up our hearts unto new life;" and then they all beat their breasts; then another cry came still more frequently, "Life was dead—was buried in the grave—now is new life come to us from the tomb—let us live unto God—life and light are come to us;" again and again repeated.

Sometimes the words were in Russian, sometimes in Greek, but the sense was the same. They were repeated louder and louder, quicker and quicker, and the excitement became greater, those on the outside of the crowd almost beyond the Rotunda, struggling, jostling, and fighting with each other, when the procession appeared and slowly edged its way round the building, the soldiers, by main force, keeping room for it to pass. Arrived at the door of the Sepulchre the Bishop of Tabor took off all his rich vestments, and clad only in a white surplice, entered in alone and closed the door behind him. Now the multitude did indeed sway backwards and forwards in one intense frenzy of excitement, but, in three minutes, a deafening shout arose, and the sacred Torch was thrust through the hole! in less than four minutes the tapers of the whole (crowd were lighted from end to end of the Rotunda, and in another moment had run round the more distant parts and into the small Greek gallery with surprising swiftness, for not only were whole bundles of tapers lighted at one touch, distributed from one to another, but others were let down by cords from above, and were drawn up with many crossings and much rejoicing. The whole thing lasts literally but a few minutes, for not only are the tapers short and thin, but most of them are blown out directly after they have been lighted, to be carried home as precious relies, and burned beside the death pillow of the owner: hundreds of handkerchiefs and sheets are held in the flame to have a hole or two burned in them, after which they serve as shrouds, ensuring a welcome from the angels for the souls of their fortunate possessors. Of course, as is well known, none of the educated Greeks believe in this absurd "miracle," which the "Fire Bishop" does not hesitate to acknowledge proceeds from the application of a lucifer-match; but these miserably ignorant pilgrims still devoutly believe in it, and the delusion is encouraged for the sake of the fees, by which the convents are supported. It is curious indeed to sec the complete change that suddenly comes over the lately expectant multitude: the expression of every anxious, haggard, and eager face has given place to the look of triumph and rejoicing, the intense happiness of success: now their long, weary, and often painful pilgrimage is over, and every object is accomplished: all the sacred places have been seen and kissed with reverent eyes and lips: the sins of a life have boon washed away in the cleansing waters of the Jordan: the grave-clothes bathed in the sacred stream are secured, and now is added the holy taper lighted by the miraculous Flame which arises from the Tomb of their Saviour, which is to cheer them through the death struggle, and light them along the Valley of the Shadow of Death into Abraham's bosom.

Easter is entirely forgotten; for the "Fire" is the real object, so directly obtained from Heaven that the commemoration of the Resurrection is quite secondary. This afternoon many hundreds have left the city, and begun their homeward journey, unmindful of the Sunday that is to follow. Deluded, superstitious, and ignorant indeed they are; but perhaps the eyes of the Almighty Father may discern underneath all this, buried and hidden from the sight of men, some faithful and loving hearts more worthy of His blessing than many an enlightened, self-esteeming, and well-informed Pharisee, who looks upon them only with contempt. These poor pilgrims in truth we may regard with that love and "mercy which rejoiceth against judgment," though one would not willingly express one's opinion of those who keep up what they know too well to be a falsehood for their own "filthy lucre's sake:" indeed one might say, as Sooraya Pasha said after contemplating the frantic scene that so much shocked the grave Mooslim—"Vous croyez que c'est une maison du bon Dieu, et que cette ceremonie est une chose religieuse—je vous dis que le bon Dieu ne peut pas etre ici, et que, tout bonnement, c'est qu'une profanation horrible! " On this same day, April 30th, 1859, as the Pasha sat looking on at the tumultuous scene, and stroking his beard with astonishment, a fanatic Russian pilgrim thrust his flaming torch into the Mooslim's face, growling out, " Dog of a Turk!" Signor Pierotti, who was standing beside him, instantly knocked the Russian on the head, and the kawasses rushed up to seize hold of him; but the Pasha interfered to prevent them, and only said to his friend, "Monsieur, il faut avoir patience avec les fous!"—a piece of advice which the traveller will do well to keep in his mind in modern Jerusalem