A day's journey by train from Algiers, through country closely
cultivated with vines and crops by the French colonists, and then
through a mountainous district inhabited by the Kabyle tribes, brought
us into Constantine.
This is a wonderful city perched on a high rock, and surrounded on
three sides by a narrow gorge some 400 feet deep. It has been a
fortress since ancient times; and holds the record for being besieged,
having stood no fewer than eighty investments in its time.
On the last occasion it was held by the Arabs against the French,
whose first attempt to take the place was defeated by the natives
after a desperate fight. It looks practically impossible to capture
the place, but for two years the French did not give up hope,
continuing their efforts until in the end they were successful.
Like the Scouts they were not put off by very big difficulties, but
pluckily stuck to it, and gained their end.
We visited here the French cavalry regiment, the 3rd Chasseurs
d'Afrique. This regiment distinguished itself in the Crimea by
supporting the charge of the British Light Brigade at Balaclava.
It dashed bravely into the batteries of Russian artillery, who were
firing into the flanks of our force, and captured a number of their
guns, and thus enabled the survivors of the charge to make their way
back from the field.
The records of this exploit are still preserved in the regimental
museum, or _salle d'Honneur_, as are also the trophies and
memorials of other fine deeds performed by the regiment on active
service.
Among these was an interesting letter written by an officer after he
had been mortally wounded by a shot which shattered his jaw. It was
his last message to the men of his squadron urging them to do their
duty before all else, and saying he was proud to die in the cause of
his Country.
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