From the pass, which was nearly a mile long, we debouched into a little circular plain, with a superficial area of about 1½ square miles. It was surrounded by high rocky walls, to all appearance without a break in them, and the fort of Cho-Trang was situated almost exactly in the middle of the plain.
We found that the position was a solid one. It was rectangular in form, with a small bastion at each angle, and the fortification consisted of a well-built parapet and ditch, round which ran the usual bamboo palisades.
Our little detachment of thirty men was lodged in a big, one-roomed hut of clay and bamboo, thatched with macaw palm. It had evidently been prepared for our use, for it was clean and freshly whitewashed, and contained the necessary bedding and mosquito-nets for the detachment.
The fort was in command of a lieutenant of thetirailleurs Tonkinois—an eccentric individual who had a strong aversion to the Legionaries. Not that he was unnecessarily harsh or unjusttowards us, but he had a mania for openly expressing a want of confidence in our discipline, which wounded the pride of the men of our detachment, the majority of whom soon hated him most cordially. He was married, according to native custom, to a Tonquinese woman, who was living in the fort; and this, added to the fact that he was an opium-smoker, did not aid in increasing the small respect with which he was regarded by the Legionaries.
Strict orders had been given by the General commanding the Brigade that we should not be overworked while staying in this unhealthy spot, so that our life was rather a quiet and monotonous one. The only exciting incident that happened during my stay here was an attack made on the cattle stockade by two black panthers. One of these beasts succeeded in gaining an entrance, and killed a bullock. He paid for his daring with his life, however, and was riddled with bullets by some Legionaries who had been awakened by the cries of the native sentry.
The nights were gradually becoming cooler, for we were now in the middle of October, and life was rendered unpleasant by the thick, dampmists which hung continually over our position. Owing to the high walls of rock surrounding the little plain upon which the fort was built, there was little or no breeze, so that these fogs hung about us till late in each morning, when the midday heat of the tropical sun dispelled them. No doubt this was one of the principal causes of the prevalence of fever in this district; another being that the water used by the troops, though it came from mountain streams, and was apparently limpid, was strongly impregnated with copper, of which metal there were considerable traces in the soil of the region. Filters were provided for the garrison, and the troops were not allowed to use any water, either for cooking or drinking, unless it had been previously boiled. Even these precautions did not suffice to avoid disease, for when our detachment had been three weeks in Cho-Trang, more than half of its effective was laid up with fever, which takes a most virulent form in this district.
Its commencement, like ordinary malaria, is generally announced by shivering fits, during which the sufferer experiences a sensation of extreme cold. The hands and feet are numbedand glacial; the teeth chatter continually, notwithstanding the fact that the thermometer in the verandah is often, in such cases, at 95 degrees. This is succeeded at the end of an hour or more by a feeling of burning heat; perspiration ceases, the sufferer's temperature rises to over a hundred; he is a victim of terrible pains in the head, and is often delirious. At Cho-Trang this condition was usually complicated by hematuric symptoms, which, fortunately, do not occur in the majority of cases of ordinary jungle fever.
There was no doctor in the fort (indeed, it would be impossible to maintain a medical officer in each of the numerous small garrisons in Tonquin), and it was the lieutenant who examined the sick men and served out the medicines provided by the authorities without stint.
In such cases commanders of forts are furnished with a manual, which is well written, and gives in the clearest of terms explanations concerning the symptoms and treatment of the different tropical and other diseases they will most probably be called upon to treat. Definiteinstructions are also given in this little book to the officers, concerning the transfer of the men to the nearest hospital centre, whenever there are signs that the disease from which they are suffering is of a persistent or malignant form. Though these recommendations are not always adhered to, it would hardly be fair in such cases to censure the commanders, since it often happens, on numerous removals of this kind being made, that the officer receives blame from headquarters for having neglected to take the necessary precautions to ensure the satisfactory sanitation of his post, whereas in most instances the epidemic has had its origin in the insanitary position of the fort, or the dangerous composition of the soil it was built on.
It was noticeable that the first among my comrades to fall victims to sickness were the younger members of the detachment. When they had a strong and healthy constitution they generally recovered, and though the fever clung to them for six months, and sometimes more, during which period the attacks gradually decreased in force and occurred at longer intervals, they eventually became seasoned, andthe fever seemed no longer to have any hold on them. I know of a good many men who have served four consecutive years in the colony, and who, after paying a heavy toll to malaria, during the first year or eighteen months, have never again been troubled by the disease.
Hard drinkers were longer in resisting the attacks of the fever fiend, but once the illness got a hold upon them, the results were generally fatal. One of the peculiarities of the jungle fever, in any form, is that the sufferer loses all appetite; indeed, he usually exhibits almost a loathing for any kind of food. It is therefore necessary to maintain his vitality, which rapidly sinks under the repeated attacks of the disease. To obtain this result liberal allowances of liquid food are administered to the patient. In Tonquin, milk, either fresh or condensed, was the diet most frequently prescribed, and in most cases with excellent results, except when the sufferers happened to be confirmed alcoholic subjects. Then the patients would either refuse to take milk, for which they possessed a decided repugnance, or they would be unable to keepand digest it after having forced themselves to swallow it.
It is easy to understand that, owing to the number of men incapacitated through sickness, the duties of the few available for service were considerably increased. It was no unusual occurrence to find oneself detailed for guard three times in one week, and it was only by reducing things to their strictest limit that sufficient men could be found to escort the convoy which was brought from Bac-Lé every Thursday. The convoy was absolutely necessary, for we depended on this weekly service for our supply of food. A reserve stock of flour, wine, rice, coffee, sugar and salt, sufficient to feed the members of the garrison for three months, was stored in the fort; but this was only to be drawn upon in cases of extreme urgency, such as siege or blockade.
It was during this trying time that I was able to appreciate the good-fellowship and unobtrusive self-abnegation possessed by the majority of my comrades, and many instances of their kindly spirit came under my observation.
Whenever a man detailed for service fellsick shortly before going on duty—and this was by no means a rare occurrence—a chum would at once cheerfully volunteer and take his place, though, as often as not, he had himself just come off convoy or guard duty, or was recovering from an attack of fever.
The able men not on duty—they were generally but few—neglected their own comfort, and sacrificed their rare hours of rest to attend, without murmur, to their stricken comrades, and did their best, in their rough but kindly way, to lighten their sufferings.
It was a quaint and touching sight to watch one of these bearded mercenaries, as he passed from cot to cot, and note his efforts to repress his own impatience and clumsiness, as he piled blanket after blanket on a shivering sufferer, changed the damp linen of another, who had broken into the beneficent sweat that denoted the termination of an attack, or calmed, with a voice which he tried to render gentle, the ravings of a delirious friend, standing the while to change every few minutes the wet bandages on the burning brow of the stricken one.
With what gentle care the weak oneswould be lifted into a sitting position, and how patiently, with cheery, though perhaps clumsy jokes, would these self-appointed nurses encourage their patients to drink the cup of milk which succoured the ebbing strength, or the boiling liquid that provoked the saving perspiration.
"Allons! mon vieux.You're not dead yet! The tree is not grown from which your pine overcoat will be made. Courage! take this, and to-morrow you will feel so well that you will want to go on convoy guard, so as to see that little browncongaithat winked at you last time we were at Bac-Lé. Sly dog!Va!"
Or:
"Bien quoi!hold on,mon ami! There's a lot more wine in the storeroom that wants drinking. Don't desert us; we shall never get through it without the help of your steep throat."
Often I would laugh at their coarse wit, though a big lump in my throat betokened another kind of sentiment. Yet one might be joyful at the evidence of the vast store of human kindness possessed by these rough soldier-folk,which, though hidden till now, came splendidly to the fore in this time of common misfortune.
On the 20th November, as I was sitting on a stool close by the door of the fort—for I was feeling decidedly queer, having just recovered from a third severe attack of fever—the native sentry, who was posted on a little wooden platform about 20 feet high, supported on four bamboo poles, and fitted with a thatch roof, informed me with a shout that he could perceive a troop of European soldiers, accompanied by two mounted officers, coming out of the pass towards us. I was in charge of the guard for the day, so I sent off atirailleurto inform the commander. A few minutes later the two officers seen by the sentry came galloping into Cho-Trang on their ponies, and my surprise was great on recognising Captain Plessier and Surgeon Joly.
As they came through the gate I rose and saluted. Our Captain drew up his little mount with a jerk, and after looking hard at me for a few seconds, exclaimed:
"Mon Dieu!Doctor, why, this is our Englishman. But how changed! Why, theman is as yellow as a buttercup, and as thin as a vine-pole."
While he was speaking, the doctor had dismounted, and, after throwing the reins to a native soldier who stood by, he came over to me. After consulting my pulse, and looking at my tongue, he turned to Captain Plessier and said:
"This man is in a high fever, and ought to be in bed."
He questioned me concerning the date on which I had had my first attack, and obliged me also to give him other details concerning my malady. Then he walked off and rejoined our Captain, who had gone on to the quarters of the lieutenant in command of the fort. A few minutes later a sergeant came up to the guard-house and told me that, on the doctor's advice, the lieutenant had given orders for me to be relieved, and he (the sergeant) had been instructed to tell me to go to bed.
I was not sorry for this, for I was feeling very unwell; and when one of my comrades put in an appearance I passed the service on to him, hurried away to my hut, and was soon lying onmy cot under a pile of blankets, in anticipation of the attack of ague which was already giving me signs of speedy approach.
I had not been there long before Captain Plessier, accompanied by our surgeon, came into the room. They visited the sick men who were in their cots—there were nine besides myself—and then came over to me. After examining me again, the doctor said:
"This man should be sent down to the nearest hospital as soon as possible. He might leave with us to-morrow morning."
"We have not sufficient coolies to carry him," replied our Captain; "and it would take at least two days to get some from Bac-Lé." He reflected a little, and then asked me: "Can you ride?"
"Yes,mon capitaine," I answered.
"Well, doctor, I think the best thing will be to put him on my spare pony," continued our chief; "that is, if you think he can stand the ride, and one of our coolies can carry his baggage. Eh, doctor?"
"Yes, I think we can risk it, for it is better to get him away from here as soon as possible," answered M. Joly.
No sooner had our officers left the room than several of my comrades set to work to pack my kit, for I was now in a high fever again, and consequently too weak and ill to attend to this operation myself. As they bustled about, these good-hearted fellows, with many good-natured jokes concerning my coming journey to the "sea-side," congratulated me on my luck, and did their best to encourage me to get to sleep, so as to gain strength for my long ride on the morrow.
We started early the next morning, and though I was glad to leave the "Sale trou," as my comrades termed the fort, I was sorry at the thought that they would have to remain for several weeks longer in this unhealthy spot. Dr Joly had announced the previous evening to the other sick men that they would be removed as soon as sufficient coolies could be obtained for their transportation.
My mount was a big Tartar pony, whose only fault consisted in a persistent desire to leave the path and gallop through the forest. He succeeded in taking me unawares the first time, and my helmet was knocked off and I was nearly brained by the bough of a tree. Likemost of these little horses, when they have been in the hands of the natives, he possessed a terribly hard mouth, so that what with this and the fever which had again taken a hold on me, I experienced a somewhat lively journey.
We reached Kep at four in the afternoon, and here I was put into a carriage on the little railway to Lang-son, which was then in course of construction, and had reached this point, 12 miles from Phulang-Thuong, a few days previously.
At Kep I said good-bye to my comrades who formed the escort, and thanked our Captain and doctor for their kindness. I afterwards learned that I had indeed reason to be grateful to them for my speedy transference, for a week elapsed before sufficient coolies could be obtained to transport the other sick men from Cho-Trang, and one of the poor fellows died during the journey.
On the arrival of the train at Phulang-Thuong a stretcher was in readiness for me, instructions to that effect having been telegraphed from Kep, and I was carried to the hospital. This establishment was virtually a sort of base ambulance, from which the patients, whom the doctors considered in need of a long treatment and change of climate, were sent on to Haïphong or Quang-Yen. It was, however, well built, possessed an efficient staff of surgeons and nurses, and was so fitted up that every colonial disease or casualty likely to occur during a campaign could be dealt with under the best of conditions. A great deal of money and attention is expended by the French Government in the building and fitting up of the hospitals in Tonquin, and the doctors are well trained, clever and conscientious men.
I remained here for a fortnight, during which time I do not think the fever left me for an hour; indeed, during the first six days I was almost continuously unconscious. I was treated with the utmost kindness and care, both by the surgeons and Sisters. These excellent women, who belong to the Roman Catholic Order of "St Vincent de Paul," do not, unfortunately, possess the same scientific knowledge of medical nursing as our British hospital nurses, but they are untiring in the care which they give to the patients, and their unstinted efforts to relieve the suffering are worthy of the highest praise.
During that period of my illness when thefever was at its worst and I was almost constantly delirious, it seemed to me that there were moments when some section of my intellect, escaping from the frenzy which possessed my brain, succeeded in retaining its lucidity, and was able to obtain control over a portion of my personality, inspiring it with a power to think and see independently of, and, as it were, apart from, the remainder of my suffering organism.
So vividly did this impression assert itself, that to this day I can remember hearing my own ravings, and mentally consoling myself with the thought that they were merely the results of delirium. I would at such times watch the terrifying hallucinations, conjured up by the malady, with a perfect knowledge that they were the results of an imagination distorted by the fever which possessed me; and at the same time find means to take notice of a tiny lizard, as it crawled, searching for mosquitoes, up the curtain surrounding my bed, the flickering night-light, the crucifix hanging on the whitewashed wall in front of me, or the Sister on duty as she moved silently from cot to cot,to administer medicine or to assure herself that her patients were asleep, and whose picturesque costume, whitecornetteand collar, reminded me of the poem, "The Black Musketeer," in theIngoldsby Legends. My experience is by no means unique, for several of my friends who have also been victims to jungle fever, and with whom I have compared notes, have been impressed by phenomena of a similar description.
When my daily temperature began to take a slow but decidedly downward curve, the head doctor informed me that I was to be sent to the hospital at Quang-Yen, a small town situated on the coast not far from Along Bay, where, said he, aided by the sea-air, I might possibly succeed in shaking off the malaria; though he told me that he was noting my clinic-sheet to the effect that he considered it advisable to send me back to Algeria as soon as I could support the voyage. I felt much disappointed at this information, though I recognised his kindly intention; but it was far from my wish to return so soon to Africa, and I determined to make every effort, in the event of my getting rid of the fever, to induce the doctors at Quang-Yento allow me to remain in Tonquin, for I still hoped to participate in the coming winter campaign in the Yen-Thé, the prospects of which had been a constant topic of conversation with my comrades. A few days later I was carried on board a river steamer, but during the journey I fell so ill again that I was put on shore at Haïphong, and remained three days in the hospital there. However, at the end of that period I was sufficiently recovered to continue my journey, and eventually reached Quang-Yen on the 12th November.
CHAPTER VI
La Sœur Agnes—Exeat—Nha-Nam again—Picking up the threads—Bo-ha—Preparations for the campaign—With General Voyron's column—An error in the art of war—A big butcher's bill—Collapse of the rebellion—Stamping out the embers.
La Sœur Agnes—Exeat—Nha-Nam again—Picking up the threads—Bo-ha—Preparations for the campaign—With General Voyron's column—An error in the art of war—A big butcher's bill—Collapse of the rebellion—Stamping out the embers.
The town of Quang-Yen, capital of the province of the same name, is situated about 10 miles to the south-east of Haïphong, and close to the sea. Thanks to its position on a series of small hills, it is swept by the sea-breeze, and enjoys a well-merited reputation for its healthy climate.
A fine hospital was erected here by the French in 1888; this has since been enlarged, and now affords accommodation for three hundred patients.
On my arrival I was placed in one of the big fever wards, each of which contained twenty-four beds, and the comfort and quiet of my new quarters, the skill and care of the doctors andSisters, and the pure air of the region, soon produced most beneficial results.
The attacks of malaria decreased in frequency and intensity, and my strength augmented each day.
There was something delightfully fresh and reposeful in the sensation of finding oneself again in a comfortable bed, between spotless sheets; and the vista of the long room, with its polished wood floor, the neat cots of black-enamelled iron and shining brass, the white mosquito-curtains and the sound of the crackling log-fire, which burned in the open hearth during the early cool of the November mornings, reminded one of the cleanliness and ease of Europe—of home. It was pleasant, too, to watch the Sisters as they glided from bed to bed, attending with untiring patience and gentleness to the wants of the sufferers. It was both pathetic and droll to see one of these good women as, with the tender care of a mother, she washed the face and hands of some big and bearded Legionary who was too debilitated to do anything for himself, but who kept his eyes open, notwithstanding their smarting, so as not to lose a single movement ofhis ministering angel; continually expressing his thanks the while, at the risk of receiving a mouthful of soap and water. Neither could one watch without emotion a Sister who had to deal with a patient who had lost all desire for food, as was often the case with victims to persistent fever. Insisting on the sufferer partaking of a cup of beef-tea, she would administer it spoonful by spoonful, accompanying each of these with gentle words of encouragement, so that the rough mercenary could not do otherwise than gulp down the helpings—trying, meanwhile, to look pleasant and grateful. There was a little chapel attached to the hospital, wherein a Spanish missionary from a neighbouring village of Roman Catholic converts officiated; and when the men were convalescent and able to get about, they would manifest their gratitude to, and respect for, their nurses by attending mass on Sundays, notwithstanding the fact that many of them were Protestants, and that most of them possessed little or no religion at all under ordinary circumstances. The Sister who attended to me was a small and cheerful little person, who seemed to be about at all hours of theday and night, and her activity and ceaseless surveillance were the terror of the native servants who worked in the ward. She was a merry soul, who never missed an occasion for drawing a laugh from her patients. Should I hesitate and grimace before swallowing my dose of quinine—it was administered in solution in those days—she would assure me that toconnaisseursits taste was as agreeable as that offin champagne, and declare that it was only a question of time and habit for me to be able to appreciate its delicate flavour.
I owe much to this Sister for the care and attention she gave me during my stay in Quang-Yen hospital—these were, of course, equally bestowed on all the sufferers under her charge—and it was my good fortune, five years later, to meet her under entirely different circumstances, when I recalled myself to her memory and expressed my gratitude. To-day, as I write, there comes back to me a vision of the ward at night, when, having fallen asleep after blinking at the reflection of the firelight on the polishedparquetand brass knobs on the bedposts of the neighbouring cots, a gentletouch would awaken me from my first slumber, and I could see, under the whitecornette, the smiling face of my nurse—en religion,Sœur Agnes—as, after lifting the mosquito-curtain, she presented to my lips a small glass containing the nightly dose of the bitter drug, while she whispered: "Tenez, mon petit St Jean—Voici votre grog."
After attending to the wants of each, and seeing that all are comfortable, Sœur Agnes would kneel down in the ward, and, with bent head and clasped hands, repeat in a soft but distinct voice the prayers for the night. Every soldier who was able to sit up in bed would do so, and nearly all those who could, murmured with her the Lord's Prayer, each in his own language. Probably most of them did so simply to please the patientreligieuse, who soothed their sufferings and attended to their needs; but, be that as it may, there existed no regulation which obliged them so to do, therefore their action was spontaneous and impressive.
When the Sister had left the room, after bidding a general "good-night" to its occupants, it was very seldom that any conversation wouldtake place. It seemed as if the majority of the men were anxious to court sleep while still under the impression left them by the saintly, self-sacrificing woman to whom they had just listened, desiring, perhaps, that it should bring to them dreams of those they loved, but of whom they never spoke. Now and again a new patient, proud of his cynicism, would scoff at his comrades, curse them for knock-kneedcalotins, or go so far as to laugh aloud, or even whistle a ribald regimental ditty, during the evening prayer. They never did this twice, however, for a straight-spoken, though perhaps somewhat lurid, warning from their room-mates always sufficed to quell any desire for persistence in this breach of the etiquette of the ward. Had it been otherwise, it is certain that their suppression would have been both rapid and awesome.
On the 12th December I was called before the Repatriation Committee (Conseil de Rapatriement), the members of which—three doctors—seeing the progress I had made, decided to keep me in the hospital for another fortnight, at the end of which period, if no relapse had occurred, I could return to my corps. It is hardlynecessary to state that this decision was very agreeable to me, for I had feared that these officers would order my return to Algeria; and once assured of the realisation of my desires, I improved rapidly in health and strength. Sometimes, when I suspected a slight attack of fever, I "faked" my temperature, lest the doctor who examined my "chart" each day should take another view of my case, and send me up again before the Committee. I trust, however, that this confession of my fault will bring with it forgiveness for the trick played upon my kind and trusting nurse.
During my stay at Quang-Yen I saw that the majority of the patients were men from theInfanterie de Marine. These regiments passed into the domain of the Minister of War in 1901, and are now known asL'Infanterie Coloniale. I was very surprised at their youthfulness and evident want of stamina. This corps was originally formed, like our Royal Marines, for service afloat. Since 1860 their place on board the men-of-war has been taken by sailors (fusiliers marins) who undergo a special course of training in musketry and infantry drill; and theInfanterie de Marinewas formed into twelve regiments, which now garrison the naval ports on the French coast, the principal towns in the Colonies, and take part in all expeditions overseas. Before the reorganisation of the army, carried out after the Franco-German War, the men of this fine corps had won a grand reputation for courage and endurance, and the defence of the village of Bazeilles by a brigade of French marines against a division of Bavarian troops, in 1870, will ever remain one of the finest pages in the history of the struggle. General conscription and the short service system have done much to reduce the fighting value of these regiments, which were formerly composed of men who had been submitted to a most searching medical examination, and consequently stood a good chance of resisting the insalubrious climate of the Colonies, and who volunteered for a long period with the flag. To-day, the majority of these troops are town-bred, beardless boys, of from eighteen to twenty years of age, who are in these regiments because they have been unfortunate enough to draw a low number from the conscription-urn. Like all France's sons, they are brave and enthusiastic,but owing to their youth, inexperience and hurried and incomplete military training they have sometimes proved victims to sudden panic, and their but half-formed constitutions and still growing physique make them prompt sufferers to malady, fatigue and discouragement during the hardships of a tropical campaign. Several French authorities on military matters have expressed the opinion that the Government would do well to employ more seasoned material for their colonial garrisons and expeditions, and reserve these brave youths for the future battlefields of Europe, whereon may be decided the destiny of their fatherland.
Those of us who were able to get about attended the midnight mass on Christmas Eve, and the little chapel, with its interior prettily decorated by the willing efforts of the convalescent soldiers, was full to overflowing; and, though probably the thoughts of the majority present wandered away to the homeland, we joined vigorously in the joyful anthem, "Noel! Noel! Voici le Redempteur!" to the visible satisfaction of the beaming, buxomsœur supérieureand the smiling Sisters. On the30th I found myself "Exeat"—i.e., discharged from the hospital as cured—on the deck of a little river steamer which was churning her way through the red, muddy waters of the Cua-Cam, past miles of mangrove swamp, towards Haïphong.
The weather was bright, dry and cold—a typical winter's day of this part of the world—and the pure, crisp air, reminding me of home, seemed delightfully invigorating after the stifling, damp heat of the past summer months. At Haïphong I boarded another boat, which landed me in Phulang-Thuong the next morning.
Here I found signs of the coming campaign, for several little river-steamers were discharging their cargoes of stores, ammunition and material, and hundreds of coolies were employed in transporting the goods to the big Government go-downs in the little town, where they were stored for the time being. From here large quantities of flour, tinned beef and other stores were forwarded to Nha-Nam and Bo-Ha, these forts in turn serving as bases, from which the different columns were revictualed. On my arrival, I reported at the office of the garrison major, expecting to receive orders to leave by the first opportunityfor Nha-Nam,viaCao-Thuong—that is, by the same route which our detachment, just landed from theBien-Hoa, had taken eight months previously—but information was given me by one of the military secretaries to the effect that I would have to wait a few days, pending the formation of a convoy which was to proceed insampans, up the Song-Thuong river, to Bo-Ha, and that I would form one of the escort, to be composed of several Legionaries and a fewtirailleurs.
As Bo-Ha is only about 7 miles from Nha-Nam, entailing a march of hardly two hours, and a journey in a native boat would be a new and desirable experience to me, I did not regret the delay this unexpected development was likely to create. I had not long to wait, however, for three days later our little fleet of twenty-fivesampans, four of them occupied by the escort, glided away at three in the afternoon on its voyage up the river.
sampan
ASAMPANON THE RIVER NEAR PHULANG-THUONG.
Thesesampansare about 20 feet long, and in form somewhat resemble a house-boat, though they are smaller and possess finer lines than the floating villas one meets with on the reaches ofour English rivers during the summer months. The little house, or cabin, which is placed amidships in each of these boats, is usually about 6 feet by 5, and is so low that one can only sit or lie down inside it. Forward of this cabin is a deck from which two natives work the long sweeps of hardwood. These boatmen row in a standing position, with their faces towards the bow of the boat. Aft of the cabin is a strip of deck about 3 feet long, and from that the stern rises up in much the same way as one sees them pictured in the old prints of ships in the time of the Armada. Upon this deck stands another boatman, who handles a long oar which trails behind, and with this he both rows and steers. These boats draw very little water—2 feet at the utmost, and that only when they are fully laden.
The evening was a beautiful one, so that I made the most of the journey, and lay for several hours, my loaded rifle beside me, enjoying the varied spectacle which was quite new to me. In the boat, besides myself and the three boatmen, were threetirailleurs, but these gave me no trouble, for, having consumed a big saucepanfulof rice, they fell asleep on the deck, the cabin being nearly filled with tin cases, each containing thirty kilos of flour. The sleepers lay close together to obtain more warmth, for the nights were chilly at this season.
The river at this part was from 80 to a 100 yards wide; its water was very clear, and ran over a sandy bottom, studded here and there with large rocks, and between steep banks, from 20 to 25 feet high.
Along either side ran groves of tall bamboos, which seemed to salute us with a graceful nod as we glided by. Sometimes there was a break, and an old pagoda, with a quaintly-curved roof of red-brown tiles, came into view. Now the river would run through a few miles of forest and jungle, offering no sign of occupation by man. Enormous trees rose superbly from the banks of the stream, and their massive branches extended for many feet over its waters, on which their foliage threw a pleasant and picturesque shadow. From these great limbs hung numerous flexible creepers, some of them starred with orchid-like blooms of white and yellow hue. Many of these streamers swayed gently to andfro before the light breeze, while others, having grown down into the glassy waters, were held still in their cool embrace.
Our journey between these walls of verdure, the forms and tints of which were ever changing, was one of the most delightful of experiences, the charm whereof is still fresh in my memory. When night came down and blotted out all colour and outline, I turned on to my back and watched the stars as they came out one by one. For an hour or so I lay open-eyed, yet dreaming, till the monotonous chant of our boatman, with its ever-recurring chorus of "Oh! Yah! Mōt-Haï-Ba!" finally lulled me into a profound slumber. Our convoy reached Bo-Ha in safety the following morning at nine.
This fort was constructed and garrisoned in 1889, at the request of a rich and influential native chief, lord of an important village, called Dao-Quan. This native was formerly a leader of a group of bandits, and, before the invasion of the country by the French, had ravaged the Yen-Thé and defied the mandarins in Bac-Ninh. After the capture of that citadel by the troops under General de Négrier, he was wise enoughto throw in his lot with the invaders, and with his irregulars he fought side by side with his new allies against the oldrégime. In recognition of his services to the French cause, the Government confirmed his right to administer the district he had settled in, and made him a knight of the Legion of Honour. During the years that followed the occupation of the country by the French, he remained faithful to the cause he had adopted, and refused to have anything to do with the mandarins at the court at Hué, who were, in secret, partisans of the exiled Ham-Nghi, notwithstanding many overtures and rich promises made to him. During the operations in the Yen-Thé he rendered valuable service to the military authorities by supplying coolies to the different columns, and by making use of the armed irregulars, whom he maintained at his own expense, to guard the lines of communication. After the campaign was terminated he successfully negotiated the surrender of several influential minor chieftains, who, thanks to his efforts, came in and delivered up their arms.
We left Bo-Ha at two in the afternoon, ourlittle troop consisting of a sergeant, three Legionaries, who were bound for Nha-Nam, with tentirailleursand a native corporal from the garrison we had left, the latter having been lent to strengthen our effective.
When we had marched for about half an hour and had crossed the Song-Soï, a little stream which runs into the Song-Thuong a few miles below Bo-Ha, we perceived, a hundred yards ahead of us, a small detachment, consisting of sixtirailleurs, led by a European mounted on a native pony. I was one of the first to catch sight of them, for at the time I was in charge of the vanguard, which was composed of two natives. When we were close enough to get a good look at them, my surprise was great on recognising in the cavalier my friend Lipthay. When our mutual greetings and congratulations were over, he told me that he was out surveying the route with a view to determining the best positions for the poles of a telegraph line about to be established between Nha-Nam and the fort we had just left.
"I have done enough for to-day," said my chum, "and can easily finish the job in a coupleof hours to-morrow morning. I will go and report to the sergeant, and come back to Nha-Nam with you."
A few minutes later he was riding beside me as I walked, and I was asking him many questions concerning all that had happened since I left, and as to when the operations were likely to begin; for now that he was on the District staff I knew he was likely to be well informed on these subjects.
"Well, things have been pretty lively during the last two months," he answered. "Captain Plessier has been keeping the company at Nha-Nam busy with reconnaissances and ambuscades, but there has been no serious engagement since the little affair at Long-Thuong, at which you were present. We made a grandcoupat the beginning of last month, though, for we succeeded in finding a position rendering the enemy's big fort visible; a position on which it will not be difficult to place a battery of fieldguns, able to wish a better 'bonjour' to our rebel friends than those little toy pop-guns of the mountain artillery. What a pity old De-Nam is dead! He would have been so surprisedwhen the first 90-millimètre shells came with a flop and a bang right into his secret lair; and from quite an unexpected quarter, too. Why——"
"Bon Dieu! mon ami," I interrupted, "have pity on me and go slow. Do you mean to say the old chief is dead?"
"Dead as Cæsar," answered my friend. "He was poisoned in October by some Chinese who came down from the north to sell arms and ammunition. They were his guests, and killed him because he won back all the money he had paid them atbacquang(a native game calledfan-tanin Chinese). So the spies who came to Thaï-Nguyen told us.Dans tous les cas, he is dead, and was buried inside the big fort with great state; and De-Tam, his former lieutenant, is now commander-in-chief."
"But do you really mean to say that there is such a position as you have described?" I asked, for from my experience of the manner in which the rebels concealed their forts, such a thing seemed quite impossible.
"Most certainly," replied Lipthay. "I was on it,cher ami. But I had better tell you the tale from the beginning, for you matter-of-factEnglishmen are like St Thomas, and require palpable facts." He slipped his feet out of the stirrups, so that his long legs dangled comfortably, and, after shifting the carbine slung across his back into an easy position, began his tale.
"Towards the end of November, Linh-Nghi, the informer, was sent on to us at Thaï-Nguyen. You know the man, probably?" I nodded an affirmative, and he continued: "Et bien, Lieutenant Deleuze, chief of our Intelligence Department, used to pass hours at a time with him; took him to his house, and never lost sight of the fellow for a week. Deleuze speaks the vernacular like a native—pity there are so few like him—and the pair were soon likecorps et chemise. I knew there was something brewing, and was not surprised when, on the 2nd December, orders were issued for areconnaissance en forceto proceed to Nha-Nam the following day. One company of the Legion and one oftirailleurs—a column 350 strong—and, of course, Deleuze and Linh-Nghi, were with them; so was I. Major Berard himself was in command. We slept a night at Nha-Nam, and went on to Bo-Ha the next day, after takingwith us the mountain-gun from the former fort. At Bo-Ha we rested, and the following morning left by a path which runs to the north-west and passes through two ruined villages, Cho-Kai and Long-Ngo, which were burnt by Colonel Frey's column in January last."
"Why, you must have been due north of where the enemy's new positions are supposed to be!" I exclaimed.
"So you would think," said my friend; "but in reality we were due west. When we had got to a point about a kilomètre beyond where Cho-Kai used to be, the enemy's scouts, stationed on the hills to our left, signalled our advance by firing their rifles. Upon this the column left the path and made a general demonstration to the south-east. Our men got in touch with the enemy, and kept them occupied for a couple of hours by feinting an attacken règle. Lieutenant Deleuze and I took Linh-Nghi with us, and slipped quietly away to the west of the path. For an hour we scrambled along through the long grass, Nghi acting as guide. Then we went off to the north, walking all the time in the valleys, and keepingto the jungle so as to escape all chance of observation. At last we reached the foot of a hill somewhat taller than the surrounding ones—it was about 800 feet high—which had neither a bush nor a tree on its steep sides, but was covered all over with high, yellow grass. Nghi whispered that we must go cautiously to the top, so up we crawled on our hands and knees and lay flat on our stomachs when we reached the summit. Then we crept along until the opposite crest was gained. We had all brought big native hats with us, which we were careful to wear. When I looked down I was surprised to see that the path to Bo-Ha ran round the foot of this hill, and our column might have come here with ease, had it not been that this would have given the enemy some idea of what we were looking for. The view was a splendid one. First about 500 mètres of tall grass and jungle, then a kilomètre of forest which ran down to the Song-Soï, for we could catch here and there the gleam of its waters; beyond this a mass of hills thickly wooded, then more hills covered with grass, and beyond, bright green blotches of cultivated land.
"The weather was so clear that I caught sight of the flag at Nha-Nam, though it was quite 12 kilomètres away, and I pointed it out to Deleuze. Linh-Nghi stretched out his hand towards the forest, and, indicating a spot close to a bend in the little river, exclaimed excitedly: 'Look! look!' As I turned to him it seemed to me that his face was drawn and yellow, and his eyes were much brighter than usual. I could see nothing in the direction he pointed to but trees; but the lieutenant, after looking through his field-glasses for more than a minute, suddenly exclaimed: 'Sapristi! oui—I see roofs!' I turned to ask Nghi a question, but refrained from speaking, for he lay with his head on his arms, his face to the earth. He was sobbing like a child, and his heaving shoulders betokened the depth of his emotion."
"Poor devil!" I interrupted.
"Yes—poor devil," repeated Lipthay; then he continued: "Deleuze passed me his glasses, and after careful searching I caught glimpses of brown thatched roofs between the trees. These belonged to the houses within the big fortified village which has been in existence for threeyears at least. It is situated in the dense forest at a point where the Song-Soï forms a loop. So well is it concealed that had not Linh-Nghi been with us, I am convinced we should have failed to make it out. After a few minutes our native friend got the better of his emotion, and he started giving more explanations to the lieutenant concerning the position. While he was doing so I got out mypeigne(a military surveying compass), sighted the flag at Nha-Nam, and got a bearing; then I obtained an angle on the Nuï-Dot—you know, the hill to the south-west of Nha-Nam, where they have fixed up a heliographic station. Time was getting on, and there was a danger of being sighted at any moment, so we crawled down the way we had come, hurried back to the column and reported. I fancy the Major was very glad to see us again, and I am sure he must have been pleased with the information Deleuze gave him.
"The troops were called in, and the column formed up on the path and marched back to Bo-Ha. I don't think the enemy had an inkling of what we were after, and they were probably disappointed at not having succeeded in drawingour troops on into the forest, where they could have adopted their favourite tactics.
"Comments were rife among our men, for they had counted on an engagement, and, as they expressed it: 'On a arrêté la danse au moment où les violons étaient accordés.' As we were marching away I heard one fellow say: 'Bon Dieu! bon Dieu!I don't believe the old fossil knows himself what we did go out for. They might just as well have sent a few recruits from thebiff(the line regiments). Why, for three long hours we did nothing but waste our ammunition on half a dozen skinny natives who were dodging about among the trees.'Quel malheur!If they had known the result obtained, they would have sung another song; but it must be kept secret, of course, until the campaign is opened, and that will not be before the beginning of March."
"Rather late, isn't it?" I asked.
"Well, you see, it will be fine and cold then," answered my friend; "and with the information we now possess I don't think the expedition ought to last more than a fortnight." He now gave me more details concerning the defensive organisation of the rebels.
Besides the big fortified village already mentioned, about 4 miles to the north of Hou-Thué (demolished by Colonel Frey's column a year before), there were numerous positions, forts and entrenchments built to defend the paths leading to it. All these obstacles were accumulated to the south and east of the main position, from which it was evident that the rebels were confident that all future attacks would come from the same direction as the preceding ones.
De-Tam possessed a force of about two thousand men, twelve hundred of whom were armed with breech loading rifles of various patterns.
It was also probable that this chief was aware that the French would commence operations against him, as soon as the weather was cool enough to allow of large bodies of European troops being moved about the country, and that in consequence he had come to some understanding with the powerful leaders of the Chinese bands in North and West Tonquin, so as to secure their assistance in case of need. Of these, the two most important were Ba-Ky andLuong-Tam-Ky, who occupied vast tracts of mountainous country to the north of the Yen-Thé, into which the French had, as yet, made no serious effort to penetrate. Both of these brigand chieftains had established their domination in these districts some time before the arrival of the Western foreigners in Tonquin.
Colonel—now General—Frey in his admirable work on the subject, compares them to the feudal lords of the Middle Ages, since they administered the territory occupied as a fief, all the inhabitants being subjected to regular taxation, wisely calculated so as not to excite discontent, and their authority was undisputed. These two leaders could dispose of from two to three thousand Chinese, armed with rifles, part of which force they would certainly be willing to place at the service of De-Tam on the payment of a stipulated sum of money. In fact, this is what actually did happen. Ba-Ky and Luong-Tam-Ky submitted to French rule in 1895, but their territory has not been occupied by the troops, for two very good reasons: first, because the district is so poor that the expense entailed would hardly be justifiable, and also owing tothe fact that the region is so unhealthy that Europeans cannot remain there any length of time without falling victims to fever and dysentery.
When we reached Nha-Nam, I received a hearty greeting from my comrades, some of whom, owing to my prolonged absence, were under the impression that I had also fallen a victim to the Cho-Trang fever, as they called it. It was comforting to find myself back in my former quarters, to fall once more into the jargon of the corps and take part in the daily routine of the garrison.
Two days later Lipthay left for Thaï-Nguyen with Lieutenant Deleuze. I saw this smart intelligence officer. He was a small, brown-faced, wiry man, whose most remarkable trait was the quiet, low toned voice in which he spoke to those under him. The men told wild tales concerning his wonderful knowledge of the language and customs of the natives, whereby, it was said, he had on several occasions been able to adopt a disguise, and accompany some of the native spies on their expeditions. Whether this was exact or not I should not like todeclare, but it is certain that this officer possessed a wonderful knowledge of the vernacular, and was a topographical expert of no small merit.
I had hardly time to settle down in my old quarters again, for a week after my arrival my section was sent off to Bo-Ha to strengthen the garrison in that part, which at the time consisted of a company of native troops under the orders of Captain Perrin.
One night, shortly after our arrival there—it was the 16th January, 1892—the section was suddenly called out, orders being given for each man to take with him a flannel suit, rolled up in his waterproof blanket—which was slung across the chest—and provisions for two days. We soon learned that a long night's march lay before us; for a wire had been received from the Brigade, to the effect that a portion of Ba-Ky's band was marching on Cho-Trang with the intention of rushing that outpost, and our orders were to get there as soon as possible by the nearest way. A guide was supplied by the headman of Dao-Quan, who led us away by a track slanting off to the north-east of Bo-Ha, across a wild, uncultivated region, hithertolittle explored, and generally considered impracticable.
We started off at eleven, and it was easy walking for the first mile or so, but once we had left behind us the cultivated district surrounding our fort, the path went from bad to worse. We passed for several miles over a plain covered with jungle, after which the track went into the hills, and, though we kept up the pace, it was terrible work as we went now up, now down, then splashing through the icy cold water of the little streams coursing down each valley. Though the night was fairly clear it was dark, and difficult to see ahead in the gullies and dips, and we had to trust to luck sometimes when putting our foot forward.
We reached Cho-Phang, a Muong village, at a quarter past three in the morning, and a pedometer which I carried registered 18½ miles. We had now gained the rocky chain of the Nui-Dong-Nai, and thence the path ran along at the foot of these heights. We rested a quarter of an hour, and then continued our hurried tramp till we reached the Deo-Mou-Phieu pass, concerning which I have already written when describing my first journey to Cho-Trang. We passed through the cleft, going due north, and reached our destination at a few minutes past seven.
This was the hardest march it has ever been my lot to undertake, and, as already stated, we covered close upon 32 miles in about eight hours. The garrison—they weretirailleurs, for the detachment of the Legion had left more than a month before—was on the alert when we arrived, but had seen no sign of brigands. We were all glad to get inside the fort and take a few hours' rest. During the morning a telegram was received, stating that the band had taken another direction, and that all danger was passed. Desiring, no doubt, that we should not pass the night in so unhealthy a region, Captain Perrin, who had come with us, started us on our way back at two in the afternoon. We went at a moderate speed, passing the night at Cho-Thuong, where there are some wonderful caves, the entrance to which is some 60 feet from the ground. In these some of us tried to sleep, but were driven away by a host ofparasites. Access was gained to these caverns by means of long bamboo ladders. When their village, which is situated at the base of the rock, is attacked by bandits, the Muongs take refuge with their women and children in these caves, where, after hoisting up the ladders, they are absolutely secure from attack. Strange to say, they succeed in getting their cattle into these shelters in time of danger, but whether they do so by the aid of ropes, or through some lower entrance known only to themselves, I was unable to ascertain.
We reached Bo-Ha at three in the afternoon on the following day.
During the next few weeks our detachment was kept very busy preparing things for the troops, which were soon to be concentrated at this point; and we spent a considerable part of our time working at the road from the landing-stage on the Song-Thuong up to the fort. This had to be widened and levelled so as to allow of the passage of field artillery.
It was very evident that the rebels were alive to the fact that operations against them were intended, for their vedettes were continually in evidence round Bo-Ha and Nha-Nam, and along the road between these forts. No movement could be made by the troops of these two garrisons without it being at once signalled by the enemy's scouts. Their methods for communicating information at a distance were really ingenious. By day they made use of a code of smoke signals, to obtain which torches composed of chopped straw, resin and gunpowder were used; at night oil lanterns with a sliding shutter attachment, or paper balloons carrying a burning rag soaked in petroleum, served the same purpose.
Stores and ammunition continued to arrive, so that temporary sheds had to be erected outside the fort, for the go-downs inside were filled to overflowing.
On the 5th and 6th March a company of the Legion from Lang-son, a battalion ofInfanterie de Marine, one ofTirailleurs Tonkinois, a company of engineers, a battery of field artillery, one of mountain-guns (in all, two thousand five hundred men and twelve guns), and two thousand coolies arrived at Bo-Ha. These men, who were lodged inhuts constructed of bamboo and macaw-palm, composed the first column, destined to march to the north-east and seize the hill, which had been the subject of Lipthay's discourse to me on my return from Quang-Yen, whence they would be able to attack the enemy from quite an unexpected quarter. At Nha-Nam a second column, composed of five companies of the Legion, a battalion ofInfanterie de Marine, three companies of native troops, a battery of mountain guns and two mortars (two thousand eight hundred men and eight guns), was concentrated, preparatory to advancing in two groups, from the south-west, along the paths already thoroughly explored by the troops operating against Hou-Thué in the preceding year.
From Thaï-Nguyen a third force, consisting of two companies of the Legion, three oftirailleurs(one thousand and fifty men), and two mountain-guns, was to march from the west, thus striking the rebels' right flank, and joining hands with the column from Bo-Ha.
The loyal Delta provinces supplied about one thousand irregulars armed with rifles, andthese, officered by their local military mandarins, had orders to cover the flanks of the different columns, and, whenever possible, maintain communication between them. A French officer was detached to control their movements.
On the 8th March General Voyron arrived at Bo-Ha with his staff, and a council-of-war was held at which all the commanders of columns and groups were present. When the General had exposed his plan of campaign, each of the officers present was provided with printed instructions concerning the tactics to be adopted, particular stress being laid on the recommendation to abstain from delivering attacks on fortified positions, unless a careful preparation for the assault had been made by artillery fire. Great enthusiasm prevailed among the soldiers of the Legion, and all were burning with a desire to be in at the finish, the men of my company being particularly keen, which is easily comprehensible, since for more than a year this unit had been continuallyaux priseswith the enemy, and there were comrades to avenge, and sleepless nights and long marches to make good. The old soldierswere impressed by the elaborate preparations that had been made and the strength of the force employed, and they were unanimous in the opinion thatthis timethe "Valorous and Invincible Battalions," as De-Tam pompously styled his troops, would be scattered to the four corners of Tonquin, and their lairs would become the haunt of the tiger, the panther and the bear. It is also probable that a good many of the Legionaries secretly cherished the hope of doing a little looting "on their own," for wild tales had been circulated concerning vast treasures secreted somewhere within the precincts of De-Nam's house, now occupied by his successor.
ramparts
REBEL RAMPARTS FACING POINT A.
Next day two battalions of infantry and the battery of mountain-guns left Bo-Ha, and, after a forced march, occupied the hill already mentioned, which to facilitate orders was designated as Point A. As soon as this position was securely held the engineers got to work, prepared the track leading to it and cut a zigzag road up the flank of the hill to its summit, so as to permit of the heavier artillery being brought up. A thousand coolies worked withthe sappers, and the task of preparing about 6 miles of road and cutting a path up the sugar-loafed hill was completed in a little over forty-eight hours; so that on the evening of the 13th a battery of six guns was established on the top of Point A, and the whole of the column, with its reserve of stores and ammunition, was entrenched at its base. The light field fortifications necessary to shelter this force were made by the infantry with the aid of the entrenching tools each soldier carried.
During these four days the enemy had not been idle, for their skirmishers maintained a constant fire on the column, the workers on the road and the passing convoys, and we suffered some casualties in consequence. At night their snipers claimed a few victims, but up to this phase of the operations the losses on our side were few.
At this time my section was chiefly employed in escorting the convoys from Bo-Ha to Point A, or in covering the working parties on the road. We sometimes slept in the fort, and sometimes in the camp with the column: this depending on which of these two places wasnearest to us at the end of the day. We had several slight brushes with the enemy's scouts, none of which, however, were of any importance.
In the camp, when not on duty, I was glad to wander around from one bivouac to another. In the French infantry lines things were generally quiet, and these young soldiers, who had passed most of their time in the colony, in the garrison towns, were evidently out of their element. Most of them, when questioned on the subject, openly expressed their desire that the operations might be of very short duration, though these troops were undoubtedly as brave as their ancestors who fought at Fontenoy, Jemappes or Jena, and had the call on their patriotism been made for a supreme effort in Europe, they would have hailed the chance with enthusiasm. As it was, the prospect was one of a violent end, by the hand of an unseen foe, in some dark corner of the tropical jungle, and this to further a colonial policy in which few of them felt either interest or confidence. The ever-existing danger from the deadly malaria, the distance separating them from theirpatrieand their homes, andthe thought that their presence was due to the brutal hazard and ill-luck attached to conscription: these were reasons hardly conducive to a liking for the hardships and risks of the campaign. Not that themoraleor courage of these troops was in the least affected by this state of things, but their dislike for the expedition was evident and outspoken.
With the Legionaries it was different, and their bivouac echoed with the rollicking choruses sung by the men as they sat around the fires. Between songs they would crack jokes at each other's expense, and enter into friendly discussions as to who would be the next to "eat bananas by the roots," which was their playful way of suggesting a hurried burial in soft soil. These were grown men, vigorous and hardened, and therefore better able to resist fever, fatigue and privation than the youthful conscripts, their neighbours, who sat by the blaze and talked in subdued tones of "la chaumière et les vieux" in sunny France. The Legionary possesses a rude but kindly nature, and, like the soldier of fortune that he is, he revels in the adventurous existence he has adopted, the hazardsand dangers of it being the wine of life to him. Without desire for honour or reward, without even the wish that their deeds should receive public attention, thesecondotieriof to-day perform incredible feats of daring and devotion. Professional soldiers they are, and they will remain unmoved by brilliant discourses concerning the glory and honour of war, except that they will express their contempt for such speeches by an occasional wink and a smile at their neighbour in the ranks. For they love deeds, not words, and, when led by an officer who possesses their confidence and whose courage is undisputed, they will be generously, almost foolishly, heroic, going to meet death with light-hearted gaiety, laying down their lives for him without a murmur.
The native troops were not unworthy of interest. Squatting round their fires on various pieces of matting they had procured from no one knew where, their turbans removed and their long hair falling almost to their waists, they agitated the paper fans, which each of them usually carried thrust in his belt, thus driving away the mosquitoes swarmingaround. Their small hands, beardless faces, and rolling walk as they moved about, and the quiet, singing drawl in which they spoke, left on the observer an impression that they were effeminate. It was hard to realise that under this gentle exterior these natives possessed a talent for cruelty and cunning to a degree attained by few other races. The causes and probable results of the campaign were of small importance to them, if one could judge by the mask of Oriental indifference they wore, though it was hard indeed to learn their real sentiments on any subject, for it was rarely that they betrayed their inner thoughts to a European, even though he knew their language and could converse with them. The value of these troops as a military unit is a question that has been treated in a preceding chapter.
At 6a.m.on the 14th the battery on the hill opened a hot fire with a salvo of shrapnel aimed at what was supposed to be the centre of the fortified village; the distance given by the range-finders being 2800 mètres. The bombardment was kept up, the guns being trained at various distances so as to sweep the position andits surroundings, till nine that morning, when a dense mist rose from the intervening forest and obscured the target.
Clouds of damp vapour hung about the trees during the remainder of the day, so that all action of the guns was out of the question.
Profiting by the cover offered by the fog, the Commander-in-Chief sent out several companies of infantry towards the enemy's position, in the hope of ascertaining whether the artillery had succeeded in damaging the fortifications. The passage of these troops through the forest was opposed by the rebel skirmishers, who, however, retired into the fort when the attack was pressed home. The columns pushed forward towards the enemy's defences, the men being instructed to go slowly and take all the cover available, and it was discovered that from this side glimpses of the ramparts could be obtained at a distance of a little under 100 mètres, which was considerably more advantageous to the attacking force than had been the case at Hou-Thué, where all forward movements were executed in the dark, since the position was not visible until the assaulting troops were right upon it. Thisimportant information obtained, the reconnaissance retired, without, however, having been able to determine to what extent the fire of the guns had been effective. That same morning the second column left Nha-Nam in two groups, and, driving the enemy before them, proceeded slowly and cleared the country up to Long-Thuong and Dinh-Tep, where they halted for the night.
The force from Thaï-Nguyen also started on its way, to find itself opposed, after a march of 18 miles, by Ba-Ky's Chinese, who were entrenched in considerable force close to Mona-Luong. The first position on the road was assaulted and captured by the Legion, which suffered several losses, but inflicted severe punishment on the enemy. This column camped on the site of its success, and passed the night there. Thus the first day of active operations had been a successful one, and the advance had been general along the line of attack.
On the 15th March, the weather being fine and clear, it was found possible to renew the bombardment, and a slow, searching fire was kept up all day. In all about two thousand shells were thrown into the enemy's position.
The troops skirmished towards the fortifications, and, behind them, the engineers and coolies, with the aid of axe and saw, cleared a broad track through the forest. Dynamite was used to level the big trees, giants of the jungle, in dealing with which ordinary methods would have been too long and laborious. Towards evening a position was reached, about 200 yards from the ramparts, whence a good view of the defences could be obtained, and offering to a mountain battery a fair chance of effecting a breach. The column from Nha-Nam made slow but steady progress during the day, and succeeded in driving the enemy from several forts and entrenchments.
The force from Thaï-Nguyen also effected a cautious and successful advance, shelling and capturing trench after trench. Just before sunset we could hear their little mountain-guns hammering away at the retreating army. Before night fell a message was flashed from this column stating that it had reached a point on the road leading to our position, about 8 miles distant.
During the day the losses on our side had been small compared with the progress made;and since the commencement of the operations the total casualties of the expedition amounted to ten killed and thirty-two wounded. It was certain that the enemy had suffered severely, for more than forty of their dead had been found in and around the different positions captured.
My section had been on camp-guard duty all day, much to the disgust of all of us, and, to pass away the time when not on sentry-go, I climbed up the hill and watched events. From this position the sight was a grand one, for, as I have said, a panorama of the whole region could be obtained.
Crossing the brush-covered plain, going to and fro between the forest—that hid the enemy and our attacking force—and our camp situated at the base of the hill on which I stood, was a constant stream of humanity. Now it was a gang of coolies, under charge of a sapper, going to relieve some of their comrades who were clearing a way for the guns: then a string of more of these useful but ragged and dirty auxiliaries, trotting along in couples with a long bamboo between them, on which were suspended boxes of rifle ammunition. From the forest camea little convoy of wounded, or dead—who could tell from here? For the naked eye could just distinguish three crumpled, reclining figures, each covered with a brown army blanket, lying on the stretchers which the ambulance men carried carefully over the obstacles in their path. One of the three groups formed by the stretchers and their bearers suddenly stopped, and the burden was gently lowered to the ground. I saw a man run off to the right, something at the end of a strap swinging from his right hand, and suddenly I realised that this balancing object was a water-bottle. A kindly artillery sergeant, whose gun, close to where I had been standing, had just vomited a shell, handed me his field-glasses with a smile, and with a salute I thanked him for having guessed my eager desire. When I had adjusted the glasses, the soldier was back by the stretcher, and kneeling beside it was supporting his wounded friend's head with one hand, while with the other he held to the poor fellow's lips the flask containing the precious liquid he had been craving for. Only those who have been wounded can form a true idea of the terrible thirst that seizes hold of a man who hasbeen stricken down; water is like new life to him, for all his anatomy seems parched up, burning, and the friend who can procure it is an angel of mercy indeed. I recognised in the wounded man and his chum two privates from the 3rd Company of the Legion, despatched from Lang-son to assist in the operations. The "parrakeet brigade" we laughingly styled them, because their brave but somewhat eccentric captain had seen fit to dress them in green drill, which he declared made his men less visible at a distance than the conventional khaki. One of the men, the stricken one, was a Prussian; his comrade an Alsatian: hereditary enemies, if some political historians are to be believed, but here there was no room for race-hatred. There was no thought of it in the Legion, and surely no better demonstration could be given of the fact than the little incident I have described. Now the belated stretcher was moving on towards a big tent situated in a corner of the camp, from the top of which floated a red-cross flag. This was the field hospital, in which the head surgeon, M. de Camprieu, and his staff of doctors and orderlies were very busy; for besides the wounded therewere numerous cases of fever and dysentery to be attended to.