Under a gray winter sky, the ship rolled in the storm-whipped waves. A journey by sea was an ordeal that Abd el-Kader had not encountered since his boyhood. It was unsettling, this motion over which he could have no control—so different from the feeling of oneness with his horse! He grieved as he watched the coastline of Algeria recede into the foggy distance, knowing that he would never see his beloved homeland again.
But why was he being sent to France? Surely, in a few days at most, the French generals could have found a ship that would take him to Egypt, as they had promised. Despite the long years of bitter warfare, Abd el-Kader trusted them to be men of honor.
Abd el-Kader had given his word of honor, after all. He had gone to the French officers in peace, to state that he would fight no longer. Fifteen years was long enough . . . fifteen years during which he had known the heights of power and the depths of adversity. By now his people and his land had suffered far too much for the struggle to continue.
He had made his terms clear. He would leave Algeria forever, asking in return only that his exile be in Egypt or another Arab country. The French officers had agreed readily and had treated him with every courtesy. Enemies could not have made peace in a more respectful manner.
But now questions were growing in Abd el-Kader’s mind.
After two gloomy days at sea, the small ship reached the port of Toulon on the southern coast of France. Necessary arrangements would have to be made in the countries to which Abd el-Kader might be exiled; that was understandable. To his surprise, however, he and his people were taken to a quarantine station—and then to a prison-like military fort. Abd el-Kader was aware that soldiers were guarding him at all times.
Days became weeks in the cold, grim fort. Abd el-Kader could get only vague replies to his repeated questions. The translator assigned to him, Daumas, was sympathetic, but decisions about Abd el-Kader’s future were not in his hands. At one point Daumas suggested writing directly to the King of France, and Abd el-Kader promptly did so, with firmness and tact.
A few days later a secret message came back. Yes, the promise would be kept!
But the last day of February, 1848, two full months after Abd el-Kader had voluntarily laid down his sword, brought dismaying news. The king had suddenly given up his throne and fled from France. A completely new kind of government had taken over. Would it honor promises made by the former ruler?
Or had Abd el-Kader indeed been betrayed?