Volume 2 — CHAPTER XLII.

TUNIS BEFORE THE TRIBUNAL DE LA SEINE.

The month of December was only three days old when M. Roustan set out for Paris to do battle with M. Henri Rochefort. M. Ferry had three weeks before fallen a victim to the growing unpopularity of the Tunisian Expedition, and M. Léon Gambetta now reigned in his stead. Like a mysterious Hindu divinity, the great republican leader had long lived and prospered on the credit of his much delayed ministerial incarnation, and nobody trusted more fondly in his apparent omnipotence than M. Roustan and his friends. Ever since his famous vote on a side issue, which cut the Gordian knot of official perplexities concerning Tunis, M. Gambetta was regarded by the “no surrender” party in the Regency as the saviour of the Protectorate. M. Roustan hoped great things from the new Premier, and now began to adroitly use his well-known name as a sort of moral scarecrow to frighten the almost tamed Bey. But M. Barthélémy Saint-Hilaire had, in the simplicity of his heart, arranged a pitfall, which was not only destined to hopelessly trip up M. Roustan, but to materially aid the descensus Averni of the Premier himself. It was precisely this snare of M. Saint-Hilaire’s contriving which now occasioned M. Roustan’s somewhat unexpected departure, leaving the French Residency for the second time to the intelligent care of M. Lequeux.

Cheap glory was popular in France just as long as it remained cheap and no longer; when it cost something, its popularity vanished as if by magic. Ever since the almost simultaneous outbreak of Arab “fanaticism” and typhoid fever in July, everything savouring of Tunis seemed suddenly to become an object of hatred and ridicule. That ficklest of fickle goddesses, the French press, now boxed the compass in the most remarkable manner; and while the Télégraphe, the France, the Clairon, the Radical, the Intransigeant, the Justice, the Presse, the Napoléon, and the Henri IV. were bitterly attacking the more serious aspect of the new Punic War, and boldly denouncing it as a guerre d’affaires or a guerre de tripotages, such papers as the Comédie Politique were lashing its authors with the scourge of sarcasm and lampoon. The French are pre-eminently endowed with a keen sense of humour; when a cause becomes ridiculous in France it is lost, and this was the fate which befell the expedition to Tunis. While poor M. Ferry was trusting to the saving virtue of a timely triumph at Kairwán, and pronouncing a touching panegyric on the man “who held high the banner of France for seven years at Tunis,” the Comédie Politique was sending broadcast over the country a cartoon, in which M. Rochefort as Bluebeard is represented in the act of killing the unfortunate President du Conseil, who cries piteously to the venerable M. Saint-Hilaire, looking anxiously through a telescope on a watch tower, “Sister Anne, sister Anne, cannot you see the capture of Kairwán?” and receives the answer, “All I can make out in the direction of Tunis is M. Roustan walking on the Marina parade with Madame Elias Musalli.” After this, one can hardly wonder that his passionate peroration “qui touche l’armée, touche la France,” failed even to excite the most passing enthusiasm. France now thoroughly understood the humour of the situation.

Amongst the foremost in the ranks of the anti-war politicians were several leading members of the party generally described as the extrême gauche. M. Pelletan had worked hard at Tunis for a fortnight taking notes on his own account in October; and he afterwards published a scathing account of his experiences in the Justice. Although he may possibly have come across an occasional canard in the course of his investigations, no man ever laboured with greater honesty of purpose or in a more patriotic spirit than Camille Pelletan. He was the first to discover the legendary character of the so-called French colony at Tunis, and was naturally indignant at ascertaining that not a single Frenchman formed part of the entourage of M. Roustan. “France has been wofully deceived,” said M. Pelletan, “I will try to undeceive her;” and so he did. Some time before M. Pelletan’s visit to Tunis, Henri Rochefort had made the Tunisian question the subject of the most cutting invective. On the 27th September he published an article headed “Le Secret de l’Affaire Tunisienne,” which filled no less than five columns of the Intransigeant. The most striking passage ran as follows:—

We compared the Tunisian Expedition to an ordinary fraud. We were mistaken. Cheating is an offence punished by a police magistrate. Our readers, however, will see that the Tunis business is a robbery aggravated by murder, for which the authors are amenable to an assize court.

MM. Gambetta and Roustan formed an association, the object of which was, firstly, to make Tunisian bonds drop to the value of the paper they were printed upon, and then to buy them back for a few pence. But as the Bey would never have had the 200,000,000f. necessary for their reimbursement, these two confederates impelled the French Government to intervene in the Regency, and to assume the task of paying the bonds, which would have been converted into Three per Cent. Rentes. M. Gambetta and M. Roustan would then have exchanged their pile of paper for Rentes to an amount of upwards of 100,000,000f., which the taxpayers would have had to pay. That is why 50,000 of our soldiers have gone yonder to die of sunstroke and starvation. We compared the Tunisian with the Mexican war. They have that resemblance which makes Opportunism so like Bonapartism. The Jecker Bonds also had been bought up at next to nothing by the sharpers of the Imperial entourage, and when they had sufficiently filled their pockets, they got Bonaparte to set up a sort of emperor in Mexico, who pledged himself to pay them 75,000,000f., representing the bonds they had got for 500f. . . . . M. Roustan acted as the Jecker of the Tunisian Expedition. He found his Morny.

This attack was followed by a second, directed against M. Challemel Lacour, the French Ambassador in England. M. Barthélémy Saint-Hilaire placed the whole matter in the hands of “son collègue de la justice,” who sanctioned the commencement of criminal proceedings against both M. Rochefort and his manager M. Delpierre. The charge as to M. Lacour was subsequently removed to an inferior tribunal, but the trial for the scandalum magnatum on M. Roustan was set down for hearing before the Assize Court of the Seine on the 14th December.

According to English notions the issue raised was as clear as it is uninteresting:—“Did or did not MM. Gambetta and Roustan conspire to lower the price of Tunisian bonds, with a view to afterwards raising it for their profit by a military expedition against the Regency?” It appears, however, that French procedure ignores relevancy, and gives a premium to hearsay evidence, and that the propriety, good faith, and expediency of the Tunisian expedition and the disinterestedness or otherwise of its authors or reputed authors, could be with perfect propriety inquired into along with the accusation against M. Rochefort and his publisher. An hour after the case commenced it was clear to everybody that the Tunisian question was on its trial, and not M. Rochefort, and this fact alone at once invested the proceedings with all the dignity of a cause célèbre. The story of how Muhamed es Sadek unexpectedly found a Nemesis for his enemies in a Parisian jury forms one of the most curious episodes in the judicial annals of modern times. The battle of the Tribunal de la Seine was far more keenly contested, and had much more momentous consequences than either the chasse aux Khamírs or the occupation of Holy Kairwán. It is the conflict par excellence of the last Punic War.

When M. Roustan left Tunis ten days before, he was in blissful ignorance of the anomalies of French jurisprudence, or he would certainly have provided himself with all the weapons which the attesting complaisance of the docile Bey or the accommodating adulation of the “French colony” could furnish. As it was, he had only obtained a certificate that he was a stranger to the exile of General Heussein, which in the confusion of the trial does not seem to have been made use of. M. Rochefort’s story of the “Truth about Tunis” may have been to a certain extent apocryphal and wide of the mark, but the latitude allowed to the judicial proceedings which it entailed, converted the trial of the case Roustan versus Rochefort into an impeachment of the originators of the war, and an examination of the raison d’être of the expedition itself.

To witness the last phase of M. Saint-Hilaire’s simplicity, my readers must imagine themselves to be in a dingy hall on the unfashionable side of the Seine, at eleven o’clock on a foggy morning in December. The carefully selected jury with difficulty find their way through the crowded audience to their box, when the President M. Lefebre de Viefville takes his seat on the bench. The chief dramatis personæ are if possible political rather than legal celebrities. M. Rochefort, the observed of all observers at the bar, is the best dressed and most aristocratic-looking man in the court. The space assigned to the legal profession is filled to overflowing with black-robed and black-capped advocates, and the rest of the room is occupied by an attentive audience of ministers, diplomatists, journalists, and deputies. M. Rochefort’s counsel are two prominent members of the French Chamber—Maître Gatineau, who has lately declared war to the knife against M. Gambetta, and M. Delattré, himself a leader of the extrême gauche. M. Roustan, nervous and agitated, sat next his advocate, M. Cléry, who had been selected more on account of his pronounced Opportunism than his legal acumen, while that very indiscreet personage, M. le Procureur Général Dauphin, in all the glories of a scarlet gown, looked the majesty of the law itself in the chair of the public prosecutor. At mid-day precisely the jury are sworn in. The accused say nothing, M. Roustan tries to make a speech. He murmurs in a harsh, grating, unsympathetic voice that as an honest Frenchman he has come there to be white-washed by honest Frenchmen, and abruptly sits down. The President at once showed himself to be an adept at running with the hare and the hounds, or, as the French themselves have it, saving both “the goat and the cabbages.” He tried throughout to please all parties, and consequently allowed both sides to do pretty much what they liked. M. De Viefville seemed also to feel no little satisfaction at presiding over so important a case, and even remarked at the outset that the cause “ne s’agissait pas d’un procès ordinaire, mais d’une affaire politique et nationale où la conscience publique était intéressée à ce que la lumière se fit par tous les moyens!” So impatient did he seem to get to the expected disclosures that he began by inverting the usual order of hearing the evidence, and at once called on the defence to produce their witnesses. The first person to enter the box was our old friend, the Baron Sigismund Robert de Billing. He has grown a little grey since he was the pioneer of a Sancy-Ronalds’ policy in Tunis, and now carries a red morocco portfolio, which he says contains his cyphered instructions, but which everybody seemed afraid to ask him to open. After declaring he had never before seen M. Rochefort, M. De Billing said there had been two well-known Stock Exchange jobs in relation to Tunis. The first concerned the guarantee on the Bone-Guelma line, which sent up the shares 200 francs in an hour, and the second, the Tunisian bonds themselves. He had heard that the Bey had been told that no expedition would take place if he gave in about the Enfida and the Italian opposition to the Hammám el Lif railway, and that M. Roustan received pots de vin (no polite Frenchman could ever use such a coarse expression as bribes) through the medium of General Elias Musalli. The witness now descended for a moment to fact; he knew that Musalli had been dismissed from the Bey’s service for theft, and had heard that M. Roustan had procured for the broken Volterra, formerly accused of false coining, the inappropriate post of Master of the Tunisian Mint. M. De Billing added that he had been charged with a secret mission to Tunis by M. Saint-Hilaire, and said that he carried the cyphered documents which proved it about him, and would produce them if desirable. Here the red portfolio was flourished, but the President, in a fit of political discretion, interposed and gave a little evidence himself. “Your mission has been disclaimed,” said M. De Viefville, “and your papers are irrelevant to the case.” Nevertheless, M. Saint-Hilaire was afterwards called to contradict M. De Billing, and although a wrangle of an hour’s duration ensued about the “mission,” nobody ever suggested the opening of the red morocco despatch case. M. Cléry was indiscreet enough to ask leave of the Court for M. Roustan to make a speech in reply to the deposition of M. De Billing. “What!” exclaimed M. Roustan, “have I heard aright that a Frenchman accuses me of pots de vin? Even my bitterest enemies the Italians never went so far as that! Every one knows I have got nothing. General Elias Musalli was the only Tunisian functionary upon whom I could count. I have, however, made no proposition en sa faveur. My relations with the family Elias are natural enough, as I want the General every moment.” Then followed in the same harsh unsympathetic voice more evasions about the new Master of the Mint who had not coined, but was concerned in importing base money.

Such patent tergiversation as this was enough to hopelessly ruin a much better case than M. Roustan’s. In the first place, “the General” had been out of office for four years when M. Roustan’s patronage began to retrieve his lost position. He had already sold his palace, and paid out with difficulty an execution for a petty debt on his furniture, when, at M. Roustan’s urgent and reiterated request, he was re-employed as a second interpreter at the Bardo, and rose to a higher post after the Sancy ultimatum in 1879. Since then fortune has shone in a remarkable manner on General Elias, and if M. Roustan “made no proposal in his favour,” it is very strange that the Bey, who notoriously hated him, never seemed tired of forcing costly presents upon him. M. Roustan should have passed over M. De Billing’s on-dits in silence, but his explanation carried its own condemnation. Pecuniary pots de vin, like water poured on sand, leave no trace, but when they take the shape of landed property they are difficult to be concealed, especially when they are subsequently turned into cash. The following is a correct list of the real estate known to have been conveyed to the Musallis by the Tunisian Government since 1875. It affords a good illustration of the manner the pagoda tree has been shaken in this country, and shows that M. Roustan’s “constant want of Musalli’s services” was eminently beneficial to that much-abused individual.

Properties granted to the Musallis as a mark of the pure and disinterested sympathy of the Bey of Tunis.

1. Three estates known as Elreynin, Elzriga, and Harruri, in the district of the Dehlet Elmanin, and subsequently sold to General Hamida Ben Ayad for 200,000 piastres.

2. The domain of the Emghira at Mahemdia.

3. The enschir Eldaeb at Hammam el Lif.

4. Four houses in Goletta at a nominal ground-rent of £30, and now rented to the French military authorities at 10,000 francs per annum.

5. Eight thousand metres of land on the Marina at a rent of fourpence a metre, and resold at prices varying from 10 to 18 francs a metre.

6. Another 3000 metres obtained from the Bey as a second donation.

7. One third of the enschir Elzin, in partnership with Dr. Mascaro and the Master of the Mint.

Before leaving the question of these remarkable proofs of generosity on the part of the conquered Tunisians towards their conquerors, I may mention that Dr. Mascaro, who, on the 8th May, was told curtly “to leave politics alone and mind his physic,” has since received very substantial proofs of the Bey’s favour. Two hundred thousand metres of land at Hammam el Lif (worth two millions of francs, at a ground rent of £5 per annum), 12,000 metres of land on the Marina under the same conditions as those obtained by the Musallis, and a third of the great domain of Elzin, will at any rate give Dr. Mascaro a considerable stake in the future of Tunis. Of course, all this was quite spontaneous on the part of the Bey, and M. Roustan never made any proposals in favour of Dr. Mascaro, any more than he did in behalf of General Musalli. Be this as it may, there can be no doubt that the Bey’s Physician Extraordinary was wise in his generation in being on the winning side of Tunisian politics, and very fortunate in reaping so handsome a reward for his services. After this unavoidable digression on pots de vin I must return to the Tribunal de la Seine.

The next witness called was M. Villet, the organiser of the International Financial Commission. After a close questioning as to a supposed conversation with General Grévy, he was asked if he was aware of the relations between M. Roustan and the family Musalli. He replied in the affirmative, and added that his impression as to the moralité du ménage of Elias was unfavourable, and that “the General” had been dismissed from the Bardo for theft. M. Villet was followed by M. Gay de Tunis, who was allowed to open his evidence with an historical and geographical dissertation on the port of Carthage, which lasted for nearly an hour. This concluded, he continued, “I am unable to say whether M. Roustan has acted from ambition or pecuniary interest. I have no proof, but personally I have always endeavoured to protect Tunis. The private speculations supported by M. Roustan have afforded an excuse for our seizing her. Moi je l’aime la Tunisie (shouts of laughter). I once trusted General Musalli, but at last I found out he was a thief. He stole 12,000 francs from his wife.” Here he produced the now historical letter in which Madame Musalli complained of the unfair advantage taken by her husband in the division of the pot de vin given to M. Gay himself as compensation for not being allowed the privilege of restoring the city of Carthage, including the proposed cathedral in memory of the African martyrs. After the Baron de Saint-Amand had been heard, M. Camille Pelletan entered the witness-box. He was allowed full scope to describe upon oath the impressions derived from his researches, in his own peculiar and fascinating style. “We had hardly been a week at Tunis,” said M. Camille Pelletan, “when a feeling of profound disgust took possession of our minds. I had occasion to converse with the officers and French civilians now in Tunis, and I recollect that the first time I was alone with poor Le Faure he said to me, ‘Our impresions are the same. We must make revelations when we return to Paris; I shall not mince matters, and mean to speak out.’ You all know why he can no longer speak to you. I am here alone to reveal the facts and explain the details of the Tunisian Question. I am forced to throw light on M. Roustan’s position, as it presented itself to me. This is the first circumstance which struck me painfully: I expected to come to a place where Frenchmen and Italians were at variance, and to find M. Roustan surrounded by the French colony. I was surprised to observe that M. Roustan saw very few French people, and was exclusively surrounded by Levantines, or Orientalised Italians who had become Levantines. I can name the whole entourage of M. Roustan: General Musalli, Volterra, an Italian Jew, and Forti, a naturalised Frenchman. There is not a true Frenchman amongst them. We endeavoured to unravel the mystery, and this is the solution. M. Roustan is wholly under the domination of the Elias Musalli family, and his carriage is before their house for hours every day. Every one at Tunis knows that persons in need of French official support must address themselves to that house. Let me explain the character of M. Roustan’s habitual intermediaries. The first is General Musalli; he may be a General of interpreters, but he has nothing military about him. A decoration he wears alone gives him this title. Elias Musalli is a simple dragoman. He was a servant for ten years in the house of Sidi Mustapha Khaznadar, who married him to the Signora Traverso. General Elias did not by any means commence his career under M. Roustan. He was in favour with many persons, and especially with Kheir-ed-Din. He was dismissed from the Bey’s service by the Khaznadar himself on account of some accidents of a very Tunisian character (laughter), the most known of which was an abnormal manner of performing a commission involving the negotiation of some Tunisian bonds at Paris. There is also a story of a donation to a charitable fête. The Bey sent a certain contribution, but only half of it found its way into the tronc. Be this as it may, Elias Musalli was disgraced, and Kheir-ed-Din would never reinstate him. Reduced to a pension of £150 per annum, he was miserably poor, when he got into the good graces of M. Roustan. Then a magnificent plot of ground was granted him to build a new palace, but Kheir-ed-Din still declined to re-employ him, saying that he would have nothing to do with a thief. Kheir-ed-Din compromised himself, by giving to France the concession for the line from Bone to Tunis. All the foreign consuls leagued themselves against him. He still refused to take back Elias. The French representative deserted him, and he fell. The rest we all know. This is the history of Elias Musalli, but there is a sub-Elias (loud laughter.) This man is the friend of Elias in precisely the same manner as Elias is the friend of M. Roustan. He is a Jew from Leghorn, and commenced life as a broker. He became so celebrated for bringing about the failure of his employers, that he acquired the pseudonym of the courtier de l’agonie. But he did something else; he introduced false money into Tunis. The coin was made in Switzerland, and brought to its destination by way of Genoa and La Calle. The bags containing it were consigned to Volterra by an employé of the Compagnie Valéry. The affair was hushed up at the time, but one fine day the French flag floated over the Tunisian citadel. The first result obtained was the appointment of Elias Musalli as the Director of the Tunisian Foreign Office, and the second the nomination of Volterra as Master of the Mint. (M. Roustan here energetically denies this statement.[10]) The mint at Tunis is administered by somebody. It is Mustapha who has taken the contract in his name, and made Volterra his agent. The fact is so notorious that the International Financial Commission has made it the subject of a formal protest. I shall now proceed to show how business is done by the Levantine alliance, and shall speak first of Taib Bey. Taib has brought up his children in French fashion, and seems to be a friend of France. As early as in 1879 M. Roustan established relations with Taib. At first Taib declined to accept the overtures made to him, but at last he seemed disposed to acquiesce in M. Roustan’s proposals. Taib tells me that four days before the Treaty of Kasr-es-Said, the brother of Madame Elias said, ‘We are going to put Taib upon the throne, but he must first sign in favour of Madame Elias a bond for 1,500,000 francs.’ Taib was intelligent enough to understand, that although he might easily pay the sum if he succeeded his brother, it would be his death-warrant if he did not, and therefore declined to act on the suggestion. Since then evil days have fallen on Taib, and he has been even obliged to borrow money to defray his household expenses. Everything at Tunis turns on pots de vin: at every turn one hears that ‘So-and-so, having got into a scrape, has got out of it by timely application to Madame Elias.’ The three great pots de vin seem to be the Enfida, the Crédit Foncier, and the Tunisian Bonds. I saw M. Roustan at Tunis, and told him that I was surprised he had given the monopoly of the railways in the Regency to one company; he answered that it was to the French generally that the exclusive privileges had been given. In the livre jaune, however, it clearly appears that the Compagnie Bone-Guelma has the monopoly. He also denied that in M. Léon Renault’s concession there was any permission to advance money to the Bedouins, or that it had ever been contemplated to supplant Muhamed es Sadek by Taib. These two assertions were not borne out by the evidence I obtained.”

Although M. Roustan at intervals protested that all M. Pelletan said was untrue, he was not even cross-examined.

The interest in the debates somewhat waned after M. Pelletan’s address. M. Veil-Picard told the story of his purchase of the dossier of the Mostakel and the infamy of Bokhos, and a commission was appointed to overhaul it. M. Desfossés was next called, and denied M. Roustan’s knowledge of his anti-Kheir-ed-Din crusade in the République Française, as well as the allegations of his having represented M. Roustan in financial affairs. This witness has written a series of expanding pamphlets on the Tunisian question, in which he gradually rises from the status quo, through the Protectorate, to a coming annexation. M. Leblant, M. Villet’s successor, then took the place vacated by M. Desfossés. He was informed that M. Gambetta had absolved him from his official obligation to secrecy. M. De Viefville then asked him if he knew anything of M. Roustan being concerned in financial speculations. “I have nothing to allege against M. Roustan personally,” answered M. Leblant, “but he has done wrong to merge his existence in that of persons of notorious bad repute, who were accustomed to trade in the affairs of the Tunisian Government.” He had heard that M. Roustan had assisted in inducing the Bey to pay a sum of 75,000 francs due by Madame Musalli’s brother; that patents of French protection had been sold. This deposition closed amidst a wrangle between M. Roustan and Rochefort about a case the former had decided against a M. Reddon. Here again M. Roustan lost both his head and his temper; he first said he had only detained Reddon in prison for forty-eight hours, and then added that M. Rochefort had better get some information from Madame Reddon’s lover (sic), M. Cassas, his former subordinate, who was at that moment in Paris. In the middle of the storm M. Barthélémy Saint-Hilaire, Senator of France, and ex-Minister for Foreign Affairs in the Cabinet des Naifs and a translator of Aristotle, calmly entered the witness-box. Silence was at once restored, and every spectator bent eagerly forward to hear the venerable statesman perform the somewhat novel task of expounding his policy on oath.

The testimony of M. Saint-Hilaire was undoubtedly one of the most extraordinary features of this extraordinary case. He began by making a speech after the fashion of M. Pelletan: “M. Roustan,” said the witness, “has had no personal influence in the recent events. The causes of the war are more ancient. The security of our African colony was involved. Our frontiers were perpetually violated. The causes of this French enterprise are of old date. Of all the subordinates under my orders during my tenure of office, I have found few who possess as much zeal, intelligence, probity, devotion, energy, and docility as M. Roustan. Everything that has been said about his personal influence is false and calumnious. The treaty of Kasr-es-Said was signed on the 12th May, but the idea of it existed long before my accession to the portfolio of Foreign Affairs. I have collected the traditions, and put into execution the intention of my predecessors for a quarter of a century. . . . The treaty was sent from Paris, drawn up and ready for General Bréart to carry.”

If this is true, what becomes of M. Saint-Hilaire’s repeated assurances to Lord Lyons in a very different strain? On the 6th April, for instance, Lord Lyons thus writes to Lord Granville:—

M. Barthélémy Saint-Hilaire spoke to me this afternoon of the incursion of the Kroumírs from the Tunisian frontier into Algeria, and of the measures taken in consequence by the French Government.

The French territory had, his Excellency said, for many years past suffered from the lawlessness of the tribes nominally under the sovereignty of the Bey of Tunis. More than 400 incursions of more or less gravity were on record, but this last had surpassed in atrocity those which had preceded it. French soldiers had been killed; the state of the frontier had become intolerable; and the French Government were determined to put a stop, once for all, to these attacks.

They were, he went on to say, about to send a corps of from 12,000 to 15,000 men to the Tunisian frontier to inflict a signal chastisement on the Kroumírs and other lawless tribes. This number of men would be sent from France, and they would either go themselves to the frontier or take the place of troops already in garrison in Algeria, who, being inured to the climate, might perhaps be better adapted for active service in the expedition.

The Bey of Tunis would be reminded of his responsibility as sovereign of the country whence the incursions proceeded, and would be invited to send troops of his own to co-operate with the French expedition. The French troops would be assembled on the French side of the frontier, and they would not cross the frontier without necessity; but they would be empowered to do so if their military operations required it. Should the necessity for entering the Tunisian territory arise, the French Commander would give the Bey notice.

M. Barthélémy Saint-Hilaire spoke of the operations as if they were to be confined to the neighbourhood of the frontier, and to be directed only to the punishment of the lawless frontier tribes.

Two days later he reports:—

M. Barthélémy Saint-Hilaire’s language implied that the expedition was undertaken solely with a view to chastise the lawless tribes, and that it was not intended that it should enter farther into Tunisian territory than might be necessary for this purpose.

It may be that the present intentions of the French Government do not go much beyond this.

And also on the 12th April:—

Having finished the perusal of the despatch, M. Barthélémy Saint-Hilaire read out in French the passage stating that, should there be a prospect of further action on the part of France, it might be necessary to send vessels of war to Tunis to protect the life and property of British subjects against a possible outbreak of Mahommedan fanaticism.

M. Barthélémy Saint-Hilaire said that undoubtedly, in case there should be a probability that life and property would be in danger, every nation would feel bound to provide for the safety of its own people. In such a contingency the French Government also would send ships of war to Tunis, which it was not now their intention to do.

After contradicting everything he had ever said to the Ambassador of a friendly Power upon the subject of Tunis, he next proceeded to demolish M. De Billing. “The Baron said to me,” continued M. Saint-Hilaire, “that he wanted to go to Utica, and asked if I saw any objection to his doing so. ‘Not the least,’ I replied; ‘in an archæological point of view a monographie on Utica would be most interesting.’ M. De Billing had somehow or other conceived the idea of a treaty with the Bey. He managed to secure the approbation of Italy, but we never said anything to him on the subject. When in Tunis, instead of addressing himself to M. Roustan, he paid his respects to the Bey directly. M. Roustan informed me, and I promptly ordered the traveller to return. M. De Billing had no mission from me. I emphatically deny all insinuations of this kind.” His version of M. De Billing’s visit to Tunis a few weeks before the Khamír campaign, is hardly less unsatisfactory than his statement on oath as to the causes of the expedition. At the time M. De Billing went to Tunis his “mission” was announced in every paper in France, Italy, and England. Why was it not repudiated then? Is it likely that M. De Billing could personally obtain the consent of the Italian Government to any scheme of a private character? If M. Saint-Hilaire did not send M. De Billing to Tunis, how could he order him to return therefrom on his not treating the Pro-Bey in embryo with sufficient deference? And, lastly, why did he not accept M. De Billing’s challenge to allow the inspection of the cyphered contents of the mysterious red portfolio? The French public, who could hardly digest the Khamírs, could not reasonably be expected to swallow submissively the beautiful idea of an archæological monographie about Utica. The third portion of M. Saint-Hilaire’s evidence was devoted to the purchase of the dossier Bokhos. Of course the ex-minister had nothing to do with “an affair of this kind,” and supposed that M. Veil-Picard had acted from principles of pure patriotism, or with the intention of reselling the papers at a profit! This astounding declaration closed the first day of the trial, and terminated a statement, which seemed to be Aristotle, minus the logic, translated by Molière.

The second day’s proceedings opened with the examination of one of M. Saint-Hilaire’s predecessors, M. Waddington. After considerable fencing over the old ground of the Sancy indemnity, M. Gatineau asked the witness if he had heard of the ménage Elias Musalli, and was aware of its influence upon M. Roustan? M. Waddington’s reply was worthy of his venerable successor:—“I have been acquainted with the relations existing between M. Roustan and the Musalli family ever since they originated, and I have always approved of them, as Musalli was the only functionary at the Bardo who could be trusted.” He also gave M. Roustan an excellent character. M. Ferdinand Lesseps could only say that Madame Elias Musalli was a very beautiful woman, which nobody ever denied. M. Herbette stated that when he was Directeur du personnel des affaires étrangères he had no sort of fault to find with M. Roustan and the Count de Sancy of Sidi Tabet, the hero of the ultimatum of 1879, blushed deeply at the very mention of a pot de vin, described the modest probity of the Minister-Resident, and supplemented M. Oscar Gay’s dissertation on Carthage with an essay on Tunisian cancans and canards.

M. De Billing was now recalled, apparently for the purpose of a personal encounter with M. Saint-Hilaire. The red portfolio was still under his arm. He recommenced by saying that if it had not been for M. Gambetta a war would have occurred two years previously, whereupon the President politely requested him “not to pose as the representative of M. Gambetta.” M. De Billing, unabashed by the interruption, continued his account of General Heussein’s visit to Paris in 1879. “I took the Tunisian envoy to M. Gambetta,” said the witness, “and he told both of us that M. Roustan never ceased to harass the Bey for the benefit of the Musallis, husband and wife. M. Gambetta then asked Heussein to state the details, and the latter declared that M. Roustan had asked for Elias Musalli a large plot of ground in one of the best quarters of Tunis, and that the Bey had replied, ‘I will not give an estate of that value to people of this description, but I present it to you, Consul of France, to do whatever you like with.’ On this M. Gambetta said, ‘It is shameful: a Tunisian expedition after ten years of peace would be a great misfortune.’” M. De Billing and M. Saint-Hilaire having publicly given each other the lie in the most edifying manner, the former entered on some of the details of his visit to Tunis. “I saw M. Maccio,” he said, “who told me he had been M. Roustan’s intimate friend, and had sought the appointment at Tunis by his suggestion. He showed me several of M. Roustan’s letters to him, and declared that during the first week he was in Tunis M. Roustan came five or six times to see him. M. Maccio added that at M. Roustan’s last visit he had approached Madame Maccio, saying, ‘Je vous demande la permission de vous amener Madame Elias Musalli,’ but that his wife declined the honour, as, if she had received Madame Musalli, no other lady would have frequented her house. On her doing so, M. Roustan broke off relations with the Maccios and the Italians.” M. Roustan rose in a passion and flatly contradicted the witness, who retorted by saying that it was M. Roustan who had caused French blood to flow. In answer to a question by M. Gatineau, M. De Billing said that he had heard from Desfossés that the latter considered himself fortunate in being a personal friend of M. Roustan, as he thereby escaped paying blackmail on his affairs at the rate of thirty per cent. to the Musalli family. M. Desfossés now gave M. De Billing the lie from the body of the hall, and a most undignified wrangle ensued.

M. Léon Renault next gave his version of the Crédit Foncier business, and denied having threatened the Bey. It is not clear to what extent he admitted the project published by MM. Rochefort and Pelletan. Be this as it may, it is certain that at the time he came to Tunis, he delivered a copy of his scheme to Mustapha, who at once communicated it to several persons interested in the matter. M. Camille Farcy, who had followed the troops during the expedition as the correspondent of the journal La France was then called, but he proved nothing, and the President strenuously opposed his saying if “he had ever met a Khamír,” on the ground of irrelevancy.

M. Cléry then addressed the jury on behalf of M. Roustan. He began by drawing a comparison between French interests in Tunis before and after M. Roustan’s arrival, and then went on to sketch his career and attack the defence presented by his adversaries. After reading the various complimentary addresses presented to M. Roustan by more or less legendary French colonies all over the Levant, M. Cléry asked the jurors to believe that his client and the Musallis were the only righteous persons to be found in an otherwise universal sink of corruption. “My task is finished, gentlemen,” concluded M. Cléry, “but you must not deceive yourselves as to the consequences of the verdict you are about to render. If you say not guilty, as the defendants ask you to do, you will declare that M. Roustan has brought about the fall of Tunisian bonds; you will declare that he is a thief, you will heap mud upon him, and with the same blow censure the Government which employed him, and the vote of the people from which in turn that Government emanates. It will then be evident henceforth to everybody, that the reward of every man who does his duty and risks his life for his country, is to be assailed and disgraced by public opinion. They will learn that men like this might expect the fate assigned to M. Roustan by his enemies, viz., to be shot at the foot of a wall like a bandit or a dog!”

The Procureur-Général now asked M. Rochefort if he would redeem his promise of divulging the name of the author of the revelations he had published. The editor of the Intransigeant promptly answered, “Muhamed Arif Effendi, ex-Secretary of the Bey, at present commanding a troop of insurgents at Kairwán.” Was this meant as harmless banter, or as a piece of adroit judicial fencing? I am unable to say. Poor Muhamed Arif died three years ago in a lunatic asylum in Stamboul, and how any one could be “commanding a troop of insurgents at Kairwán,” two months after its occupation by the French troops, I am unable to conceive. The answer, however, appeared to satisfy the Tribunal de la Seine.

The last day of the trial had now arrived, and M. le Procureur Dauphin rose in his magnificent robe of red woollen, faced with black silk and white fur, to address the jury. His tactics were somewhat different from those of M. Cléry; he at once dropped the entourage as hopelessly corrupt and dishonest, and held up M. Roustan as the one righteous man in Tunis. The Musallis came off second-best at the hands of M. Dauphin, but a diversion was made in favour of Mustapha, who was described in touching language as “donnant à son souverain le jour et la nuit le témoignage de son attachement.” After pooh-poohing the evidence adduced by M. Rochefort, the Procureur-Général concluded his speech with these words:—“If M. Roustan is guilty, by all means acquit M. Rochefort! The day when M. Roustan will be in his turn placed at the bar, I shall know how to do my duty, and I shall fulfil it with all the more assiduity as the charge will concern an official. But if M. Roustan has been the victim of calumny, I conjure you to defend him by your verdict, and in saving the honour of an individual, you will at the same time protect the fair fame of an entire country.”

Before M. Gatineau commenced his reply, M. Desfossés was recalled, and another incident occurred. The witness was asked if he had been M. Roustan’s intermediary for the distribution of Tunisian decorations at Paris? He answered evasively, “It is possible,” adding in the same breath, “I know nothing about it.” Being pressed still further, he accused M. Delattré, one of the counsel for the defence, of having asked for a nichán himself. M. Delattré made a crushing rejoinder, and M. Gatineau commenced a vigorous speech on behalf of M. Rochefort. After he had finished his reply, a letter which had arrived that morning from Tunis was admitted as evidence. Its author was M. Pelletier, a man of considerable ability, who has for many years acted as a legal practitioner in that city. After giving an account of the past doings of the Musallis, he spoke of an affair which had lately happened as an illustration of what was going on. “A man named El Mennai came to Tunis as a candidate for the Khalifat of Gafsa. He at once opened negotiations with Shatruk, a broker in the employ of Madame Musalli, and was promised the place for 30,000 francs. A portion was to be paid at once, and the remainder on his receiving the appointment. The first dragoman of the French Consulate was at once sent to ask for the nomination, but the Minister insisted on referring the matter to General Mourabet, the Governor of Kairwán. An unfavourable report having been received, the Minister endeavoured to shelve the question. El Mennai now began to clamour for the money he had paid, but he was quietly told to keep quiet and bring the remainder. He did so, and the next day received his amra as Khalifa of Gafsa. Who can say with truth that nobody profits by the Protectorate?” A mysterious list of the Musalli pots de vin was also produced. One of the items consisted of a sum of 2500 francs, which was represented as being carried on porters’ backs in silver five-franc pieces to the Musallis’ palace—a palpable exaggeration which was much commented on at the time. M. Roustan had hardly done protesting against these manœuvres de dernière heure, when the jury retired to consider their verdict. Judges in France are no longer required to sum up the evidence, or do anything more than present a list of questions to guide the jurors in their finding. In half-an-hour they returned and acquitted M. Rochefort and Delpierre upon all the counts of the indictment, and the court ordered the prosecutor to pay the costs of the suit. An hour afterwards the Boulevards of Paris rung with the shrill cries of the news-boys selling la condamnation de Roustan.

The news was at once telegraphed to Tunis, and I shall ever remember the sensation it occasioned. For a moment even the 12th May was forgotten. The excitement was the greater, because the intelligence was wholly unexpected. The Havas as usual had gently prepared us for a very different result, and when the verdict was given, omitted to telegraph it for a whole day. The Bey gave a handsome gratuity to the man who brought him the tidings, and when the newspapers at length came, they fetched fabulous prices. Translations of the trial in Arabic were at a premium, and the satisfaction reached a culminating point when the Havas told us the Minister-Resident would be “promoted.” This, however, was not to be. Although, according to the speech of the Procureur-Général, the acquittal of M. Rochefort should have entailed the criminal prosecution of M. Roustan; although M. Cléry said that an adverse verdict would expose M. Roustan to the fate of being “shot like a dog or a bandit at the foot of a wall;” and notwithstanding that everybody connected with the case was perfectly well aware that the result amounted to a distinct condemnation of the Tunisian expedition, its causes, its authors, and its consequences, M. Gambetta resolved to defy public opinion, and send M. Roustan back to his dominions. His will was law; but five weeks later, the great Minister, whose incarnation France had waited patiently for during one entire decade, sustained a far more crushing defeat than that suffered by his predecessors. If M. Ferry died of Tunis-on-the-brain, M. Gambetta expired from acute Roustanophobia. The procès Roustan-Rochefort had far more to do with the Ministerial crisis than the scrutin de liste. French Governments and French statesmen have often flown in the face of the vox populi, but they have almost invariably had to rue the consequences.

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The trial of Henri Rochefort dissipated every remaining illusion as to the Tunisian expedition, and France realised at last the true nature of the bitter experience she had purchased, at the cost of so much treasure and so many priceless lives.