An execution--A rebel chieftain--A bid for liberty--De-Nam's
mistake--Linh-Nghi speaks--A new road to Thaï-Nguyen--In the enemy's
country--A sharp encounter--Cho-Trang--The fever-fiend--In the
hospital--Quang-Yen.
The five prisoners captured with Linh-Nghi were executed the first week
in August. They had been tried and condemned by the native mandarins
entrusted with the administration of justice. These functionaries had
come over on purpose from Bac-Ninh in great state, and the execution
took place in an open space in front of our fort. We supplied a guard
and picquet for the occasion.
None of the rebels had given any information, although it was whispered
that the native judges had submitted them to torture during their
interrogation. We had no means of controlling these rumours, for each
morning the prisoners were handed over to the native police, and
they were returned at night; and, although they slept in the fort,
it was forbidden to communicate with them. From their appearance and
evident exhaustion I should be inclined to think they had suffered
maltreatment. There would be nothing very surprising in this, for
according to the native code of justice such methods were not only
recommended, but were actually indicated. It is certain that the rebels
showed no mercy to the loyal natives or French soldiers they captured
alive (fortunately it was rarely, indeed, that any of the latter fell
into their hands), and subsequently it was destined that I should
witness shocking proofs of the terrible cruelty they were capable of
employing.
It is therefore probable that the native judges made use of all the
powers afforded them by the law of the land, and did not employ
European methods--for which, most likely, they possessed supreme
contempt.
The execution was carried out in a very simple and expeditious manner.
When a rectangular space had been cleared and lined by the troops, the
two mandarins, dressed in robes of embroidered silk, of which the
dominant colours were red and gold, their long hair neatly rolled in a
new crepon turban, took up a position in the middle of one side of the
square, and facing the centre.
Behind them were massed their retainers. Bannermen carried tattered
triangular flags, and coolies bore aloft enormous umbrellas--two
to each official--whereon were painted in bright colours a quaint
design of dragons and griffins. Each mandarin was also accompanied
by a sword-bearer, a pipe-bearer, and a domestic to whose care was
confided a black-lacquered box containing the areca-nut and betel-leaf
of his master. They formed a dirty, motley crowd, without order or
cohesion--clad in shabby, tattered scarlet uniforms; and they laughed,
chatted or squabbled, one with the other, like a pack of old fishwives.
They subsided into comparative silence, however, on the appearance of
Captain Plessier, our commander, who occupied the place of honour, a
little in advance of the two judges.
The prisoners were now brought into the enclosure, under the escort of
a few _linh-le_ (soldiers of the mandarin guard), whose dirty green
uniforms and still dirtier rifles and accoutrements were certain proofs
of their slovenly and undisciplined habits.
Behind the little procession formed by the condemned men stalked the
executioner, a tall native dressed in a red embroidered vest and black
silk pantaloons. Upon his shoulder he carried a heavy curved sword,
about 3 feet long, and a good deal broader at the end than near the
handle.
The five rebels, their hands tied behind them, walked to their death
without any tremor or hesitation. Chatting together merrily, they threw
curious glances at their surroundings, and expectorated from time to
time, with evident unconcern, the red juice of the betel-leaf they were
chewing.
They were lined up, separated about four paces one from the other, on
the opposite side of the square occupied by the authorities, and facing
them.
As each of the prisoners reached the place assigned to him, a native
soldier unbuttoned and turned back the collar of the rebel's vest;
then, one after the other, they knelt upon the grass, taking every
care that their position should be as comfortable as the circumstances
would allow.
The sentence having been read aloud to the assembled natives, the
executioner, after thrusting his finger into his mouth, traced a wet
line of red betel juice across the back of the neck of the first of
his victims, about half an inch above the last big vertebra. Stepping
back a pace, he swung aloft his heavy sword with both hands. It poised
a second in the air; there was a glitter in the bright sunlight as it
descended; then a swishing sound and a dull thud. The head of the first
rebel, detached with a single blow, fell on the ground and rolled once
over.
From the severed neck a rich red stream shot out quite 6 feet over the
grass; the body rocked once and subsided gently. Bending over it, the
executioner touched the open arteries, and smeared a little of the warm
blood over his own lips as a charm against any evil influence from the
spirit of the departed.
The other prisoners, who had watched the execution of their comrade
with evident interest, made flattering remarks concerning the skill of
the swordsman.
The next to die smiled, and prepared himself calmly, stretching his
neck as far forward as it was possible for him to do without losing his
balance.
I felt deadly sick, and could not bring myself to watch the succeeding
decapitations, which were carried out with similar skill and expedition.
The bodies of the condemned were handed over to their families, but
their heads, attached to the top of a tall bamboo pole, were exposed at
the entrance of the fort as an example to all rebels.
The authorities had decided not to hurry on the trial of Linh-Nghi, in
the hope that they would eventually succeed in obtaining information
from him. He was interrogated during several days by the two mandarins,
who failed, however, to extract the slightest indication of the
strength of the enemy or the whereabouts of their positions. After the
departure of these functionaries, our commander made several attempts,
with the aid of Tho as an interpreter, to break through the reserve of
the chieftain, but without success.
The treatment accorded him was a humane one; his diet was unstinted,
and his parents, an aged, white-haired couple, were allowed to visit
him as often as they chose during the daytime. His wife--for so the
woman whom we had found with him proved to be--remained constantly by
him, and attended to all his wants.
To one privation only was he submitted, and that was the want of opium.
On this point our Captain was obdurate, and though Linh-Nghi, who was
well supplied with money, offered to purchase the drug, his craving
was not allowed satisfaction. To all his entreaties the same reply
was given: "Speak! tell us what we ask of you, and you shall have
opium--the very best--at our expense."
Only those who have witnessed the powerful hold the subtle drug takes
on its votaries can imagine the torture endured by this native during
the hours at which he had accustomed himself to indulge in his passion.
These agonies, occurring shortly after the noon and evening meals,
would commence by protracted yawnings, and develop into spasmodic,
nervous contractions of the body and limbs, which broke into profuse
perspiration. Unable to stand the strain, the unhappy victim of the
brilliant-hued, but treacherous flower, or rather its seed, would
entreat his guards to supply him with the smallest particle at no
matter what price; then, finding that his supplications were without
avail, he would break into a torrent of invective and malediction,
which grew in intensity and filthiness as his increasing and impotent
rage neared its climax. Then, speechless and foaming at the mouth, he
would fall back on the hard, beaten-clay floor of the verandah, with
mouth agape and black eyes fixed, staring at the roof above; his face,
pale yellow, framed in the thick, tangled mass of long black hair
escaped from his fallen turban. His chest would heave and crack under
the short, sharp pants which brought the air through the larynx with
a whistling hiss. Thus would he continue for perhaps an hour, until,
exhausted by the struggle, he would fall into a sound sleep, from
which he would awake refreshed and smiling, to laugh and chat with his
guards, his wife or parents, if they happened to be present. Had there
been any real danger to Linh-Nghi during these attacks I believe that
opium, or some anæsthetic, would have been administered to him by our
surgeon, M. Joly, who, on several occasions, was present during these
crises.
On the 22nd August our prisoner made a daring bid for liberty. During
the night he had succeeded in picking the lock which secured the two
heavy beams forming the stocks wherein his ankles were imprisoned.
At four in the morning, profiting by the fact that the native sentry
was slumbering--though the soldier denied this, and attributed the
chieftain's escape to the miraculous--Linh-Nghi made a dash for the
palisade, and was astride it, when a native sergeant, who had heard the
rattling of the bamboo, ran to the spot from whence the sound came, and
succeeded in grasping a leg of the escaping rebel, to which he clung,
shouting the while for help. A few seconds later the prisoner was
brought back and secured, and the doctor attended to his wounds, for he
had been almost impaled during his struggle by the pointed bamboo poles
of the palisade.
Shortly after this incident a terrible tragedy occurred, which
brought about a complete change in the attitude of our prisoner, and
eventually made him a devoted partisan of the French cause.
Linh-Nghi had enemies in the rebel camp, and one of these, desirous of
taking over his honours and command, informed De-Nam that the captive
_linh-binh_ had succumbed to pressure, and had given information to the
French. He also provided evidence, which was false, to substantiate
his declaration. Enraged at the apparent weakness of one of his most
trusted lieutenants, the rebel chief decided to make an example, and
he gave orders for the immediate seizure and execution of Linh-Nghi's
aged parents. The details of this drama, which I obtained from Tho,
were confirmed by documents captured later from the rebels. I had an
opportunity of perusing them whilst serving on the staff of the 1st
Brigade some months later.
At daylight on the morning of the 28th August, the European sentry at
the gate of Nha-Nam found a basket, which had been deposited outside
during the night. On being opened it was found to contain two heads and
a letter addressed to our prisoner.
It is unnecessary to give further explanations, or to describe in
morbid details the reception of this strange parcel by the unfortunate
Linh-Nghi.
Certain it is that its effect was immediate, for that very evening I
saw our _ci-devant_ rebel, who had just returned from a long interview
with our commander, under the verandah, his former prison, where he was
squatting side by side with Tho, with whom he was engaged in a most
friendly conversation; whilst, with some damp clay and split bamboo,
he was constructing, with nimble fingers, neat little models of the
different fortified positions belonging to his chief of yesterday.
From that time forward he was allowed all the opium he cared to smoke,
and, though for his own safety he preferred to remain in the fort
during several weeks, he was liberated, and lodgings were assigned
to his wife in the native soldiers' village. Linh-Nghi now became a
scout and guide to the French columns, and as such he rendered immense
services to the authorities, concerning which more will be mentioned
hereafter. Eventually, he was made a mandarin, and is now a local
prefect of a district formerly overrun by rebellion. He and Tho became
fast friends, and from their evening talks, when the "black smoke" hung
thick under the thatch, I was able to derive much amusement and some
knowledge.
Owing to information furnished by Nghi, the authorities decided to
reconnoitre a road which had not been visited by French troops since
1886, when a column, under Major Dugenne, went by it from Tin-Dao (the
old name for Nha-Nam), to Thaï-Nguyen, an important town situated on
the Song-Cau river, about 20 miles as the crow flies to the north-west
of Nha-Nam. This road had probably been constructed several centuries
before, but, owing to the depopulation of the districts through which
it passed, and also to its proximity to the forest-covered, mountainous
region to the south, it was now but a path, which in some places
completely disappeared in the ever-advancing jungle.
From a military point of view the reconnaissance of this route was
of the greatest importance, since, should it be found practicable to
infantry, it would be possible to make use of it, when the time served,
as the means of advance for a column destined to attack the enemy's
positions on the right flank.
In Thaï-Nguyen there was a garrison consisting of two companies of
the Foreign Legion, one of native infantry, a section of mountain
artillery, and a detachment of militia.
My squad formed part of the small column which left Nha-Nam on the 4th
September, at five in the morning, to explore this road.
Though it had been supposed that the distance to be covered would not
exceed 25 miles, we actually marched close upon 35 before reaching our
destination.
At intervals we were obliged to cut our way through the vegetation
which had invaded the track, and it was only by using the utmost care
that our little party succeeded in keeping in the right direction.
On several occasions we disturbed big herds of deer, which scampered
away on our approaching them; the tracks of tigers were frequently
visible, and once the advance guard, consisting of half a dozen
_tirailleurs_, were considerably startled by the presence of a fine
python which lay basking in the sun, close by the track. It was only
after several stones had been thrown at it that the big snake decided
on withdrawing into the long grass. Owing to the advisability of
concealing our movements from the enemy, it was deemed necessary not to
make use of firearms on this occasion.
The men suffered much owing to the extreme heat; the path was in the
worst of conditions, and we were obliged to twice ford a river, which,
though not very deep, was exceedingly rapid, so that our expedition
proved to be a very arduous one to all who took part in it.
It was nearly 8 P.M., and quite dark, when we reached our destination,
and several of the men fell exhausted whilst waiting in the ranks for a
hut to be prepared for us to pass the night in. Thaï-Nguyen possessed a
fine citadel, of the Vauban style, which was built in 1798, and it was
in this that the garrison dwelt.
The town and its neighbourhood was at this time infested by tigers,
which prowled about the streets after dark, so that it was imprudent
for the inhabitants to go out without a torch or a light of some
kind. So great was the voracity and daring of these animals that on
several occasions they had penetrated into the citadel and carried off
dogs and goats belonging to the garrison. Indeed, the doctor, by an
extraordinary stroke of good luck, killed one with a revolver shot as
it was groping under his bed in search of a favourite pointer which had
taken refuge there. Report had it that the lucky slayer of this greedy
feline was so excited by his good fortune that he was found more dead
than alive by the guard who ran to the hut on hearing the report of his
weapon.
He lost his dog, however, for the poor animal was found to be quite
dead, its skull crushed beneath the powerful paw of its enemy.
Our column, having proved that the road explored could, if necessary,
serve as a means of penetration into the enemy's country, left
Thaï-Nguyen on its return journey the next day at 4 P.M.
Lipthay had been in charge of the topographical work during our
exploration, and his sketch of the route so pleased Major Berard, who
commanded our battalion and was also in charge of the military zone,
that my chum was detained in Thaï-Nguyen, and attached to the staff
there. I was very sorry to lose him, but, for his sake, was glad of
this change in his prospects, as his new position brought with it a
greater chance of promotion.
Our party did not return to Nha-Nam by the same route it had come,
but took a better known and more frequented track, passing more to
the south, through a district more populated, and consequently better
cultivated.
On our way back we slept one night at Cassong-Thuong, a small fort
garrisoned by a detachment of militia under the orders of a European
officer. We continued our journey the following morning, and reached
Nha-Nam at 6 P.M.
Owing to the fact that the military authorities were now in possession
of reliable information concerning the rebel's strength and positions,
orders were issued by the Brigade for reconnaissances to be made
from time to time, into the districts north of our fort, with a view
to exploring the region and obtaining topographical sketches of the
country, to be used in the production of a reliable map, for the use
of the officers who were to assist in the big column, which the
Government had decided to put in the field during the winter months.
I took part in the first of these little expeditions on the 12th
September, the object of which was to determine whether the track to
Long-Thuong, a rebel village which had not been visited since January,
was still accessible to infantry, and also to see if the hamlet was
inhabited and fortified. We started out from Nha-Nam at three in the
afternoon. As it was not intended to make any attack on the enemy
should they be in force, our detachment was a weak one, composed only
of thirty Legionaries and as many _tirailleurs_. In order to make
things easy for the Europeans, for the heat was very oppressive, we
were instructed to take with us only the six packets of ammunition
contained in our belt-pouches--36 rounds. Fortunately for us all the
_tirailleurs_, who accompanied us, started with 120 rounds per man.
We arrived within a quarter of a mile of our destination, which was
about a league and a half to the north of our position, without
incident.
The fields were well cultivated, and the rice was being harvested, but
on our approach, the reapers--all women--fled with loud cries towards
the hamlet. It is probable that the suspicions of Captain Plessier were
aroused, for, by his orders, we left the path, extended and advanced
towards the village across the cultivated ground; a small reserve
remaining upon the track under the orders of Lieutenant Bennet.
When about 200 yards from the position, we were received by a hot
fire from a strong party of the enemy occupying the hamlet. Our line
halted, and took cover by kneeling behind the little embankments which
separated one field from the other. From here we replied to the rebels,
but, a few minutes later, were exposed to a severe cross-fire coming
from the left flank; and, in less time than it takes to describe, a
_tirailleur_ was killed, and two others and one Legionary were wounded.
The enemy who took part in this flanking movement were some of De-Nam's
regulars, who came from their entrenched positions in the forest,
having been summoned to assist by their friends in the village, who for
this purpose made use of long, copper speaking-trumpets, the weird
bellowings of which we could hear above the reports of the rifles and
the repeated words of command.
Our reserve had extended on our left, at right angles to our line, but
its fire failed to keep the enemy in check, and very soon we could
distinguish their skirmishers, as they advanced in line at regular
intervals, dropping now and again on one knee to discharge their rifles
at us.
The situation was getting too warm to be pleasant, and most of the
Legionaries having expended their slender stock of ammunition, it
was found necessary to distribute among us the cartridges of the
men who had been placed _hors de combat_, and also to take a few
packets from each of the native infantrymen. Thanks to the wall-like
ridges behind which we lay, we suffered no further casualties, but
our cartridges were getting scarcer each minute, and we felt that
should any of the enemy succeed in getting out of the village by an
exit--which might possibly exist--other than the door before us,
there would be a possibility of an attack on our right flank, and
consequently a danger of the road to Nha-Nam being closed to us. It
was very soon found necessary to restrict the efforts of the native
troops to volley-firing, for, notwithstanding the repeated efforts of
their French sergeants, they expended their ammunition with reckless
extravagance when acting independently. The majority of them, not
waiting to select a suitable target or to aim carefully, just loosed
off into space, happy so long as the excitement created by the report
of their rifle and the smell of their burning powder stayed their
rising fears.
This was the first time I had seen our Captain under fire, and it was a
supreme satisfaction to me to note that his attitude came up in every
respect to the descriptions given me by my comrades, senior to myself
in the service. Calm and collected, he had an eye for every detail,
and seemed to foresee each new development in the situation. He was
never a man of many words, and now he spoke only to give some short,
crisp order to the bugler, or to a non-commissioned officer. Though he
happened that day to be dressed in a suit of white drill, he was the
only one among us who took no cover, and was in consequence the target
for many a rebel rifle. As he walked coolly up and down behind the
line of our crouching figures, his helmet cocked over his right ear, a
cigarette between his lips, flicking his leggings every now and again
with the cane he carried, he seemed to defy death itself. This attitude
inspired his men with enthusiastic confidence, and every Legionary
present would have hailed with joy an order from him to fix bayonets
and charge right at the enemy.
The action had lasted but a few minutes when the order to retreat
by echelons was given. The object of the reconnaissance had been
accomplished, for it was clear that the track followed was accessible,
and also that the village was occupied in force as an outpost; and
under the circumstances it would have been a culpable breach of the
art of war, a wanton invitation to disaster, to have continued the
engagement.
Our retirement was not effected without some difficulty, for the enemy
showed considerable daring and initiative in harassing our retreat;
and our progress was slow, because we were embarrassed by our dead and
wounded. Some difficulty was also experienced by the French sergeants
in keeping their _tirailleurs_ in hand, and it was undoubtedly due to
their efforts, and also to the example of cool steadiness displayed by
the Legionaries, that our withdrawal was saved from degenerating into
a total _sauve-qui-peut_. It was found necessary to tell off men of
my corps to bear away our comrades who were _hors de combat_, for the
native troops were too plainly victims to shattered nerves to bear the
strain of this task under fire. This somewhat reduced the strength of
our little firing line, which, however, received some assistance from
Lieutenant Bennet, who picked up a rifle and "downed" several of our
eager pursuers, for he was a first-class marksman.
The enemy abandoned their attack when we were about a mile from
Nha-Nam; but it was a band of tired and thirsty men that reached the
shelter of our position that evening at seven.
Warned by our Captain, who had galloped on ahead of us as soon as all
danger had ceased, the guard turned out and rendered the usual honours
to the dead and wounded as they were borne through the gate of the fort.
The wounded were at once attended to in the infirmary, and were
transferred under escort the next morning to the hospital at
Phulang-Thuong.
On the day following our engagement the whole garrison turned out under
arms to assist at the funeral of the _tirailleur_ who had been killed.
He was buried in the small, well-kept cemetery, situated just below the
slope to the north-west of our position. The French people have had
at all times a great respect for their dead, and their soldiers whose
lot it has been to lay down their life, _au champ d'honneur_, as they
so eloquently express it, have always received their full share of the
respect paid to the departed. In France there exists a fund, known as
_L'OEuvre des tombes_, subscribed to by thousands of the charitable
public; and the money thus obtained is expended on the hundreds of
far-away colonial graveyards, which are kept in excellent order, and
in erecting an iron cross, bearing the name and corps of the deceased,
over the last resting-place of each soldier of the Republic who falls
in fight or dies of disease. This is done without restriction of race
or religion.
I went to see Tho that evening, and found Linh-Nghi with him. They
both amused me by their evident regret at not having assisted in the
engagement of the previous day.
The little sergeant's complaints were based on plain, unsatisfied
bloodthirstiness; those of my ex-rebel friend clearly originated in
that spirit of unslakable vengeance which only an Asiatic can acquire.
It was instructive to note how they, after each pipe of opium, built
fresh plans, and devised new methods for the merciless slaughter of
their enemies. From them I learnt that a spy had come in during the
day with information that De-Tam, the most capable of all the rebel
military leaders, had been in command of the troops that had attacked
us; and that this famous captain, for whom they evidently cherished
much hate, and a good deal of reluctant admiration, had been severely
wounded towards the end of the fight, his left arm having been
shattered by a bullet just below the shoulder. This proved to be a fact.
I met the famous chieftain in 1897, when he was a partisan of the
French, and the crippled state of his limb--due, no doubt, to the
elementary treatment of the wound by the native medicine-man--was an
evident proof of it.
I passed many pleasant evenings with Tho and Nghi, who would favour me
with stories of war and love, legends of ancient origin, in which the
actors were demi-gods, dragons and genii, and strange fables full of
local colour, replete with quaint proverbs and philosophical axioms
dear to the disciples of Confucius. Unfortunately, I was soon to be
deprived of the real pleasure obtained from these foregatherings, for
my section received orders to proceed to Cho-Trang, and I was thus
suddenly separated from my two friends. It was not without some regret
that I accepted this hazard of a soldier's life, against which one
should not murmur; and I was really sorry that the opportunity afforded
me for the study of the complex characteristics of Tho and Nghi should
have been such a brief one.
My new location was a small fort situated to the north-west, on the
confines of the Yen-Thé province, about 60 miles from Nha-Nam as
the crow flies, but a good 80 by road. Owing to its position in a
rugged, forest-clad mountainous region, and to its being surrounded,
a few hundred yards away, by a chain of rocky heights, green with the
vegetation which flourished in the crevices, it was found to be so
unhealthy that the military authorities had, up till October 1891,
contented themselves with maintaining a garrison of native soldiers
there. Owing, however, to the approaching operations against the
rebels, and to the fact that Cho-Trang was situated on the left flank
of their positions, and close to several paths leading into their
country, it was found necessary to strengthen the force there for a few
months; since by these tracks it would be quite possible for some of
the Chinese bands, established in the hills around Lang-son, to come to
the assistance of De-Nam.
From Nha-Nam our detachment marched _via_ Cao-Thuong to Phulang-Thuong,
whence we served as an escort to a convoy going to Lang-son. We went
by the famous mandarin road which had been the scene of the retreat of
General de Négriers army in March, 1885.
Our rate of progress was a slow one, for the vehicles we escorted were
heavy carts, drawn by tame buffaloes, or native wheel-barrows of a most
peculiar pattern, constructed entirely of bamboo and ironwood, without
a single nail or screw. The wheel consisted of a big wooden disc about
3 feet in diameter, which revolved on a teak axle, and produced a loud
scratching noise as these clumsy carriages trundled over the rough
road. The regulation load for these barrows was about 180 pounds, and
to each of them there were two Chinese coolies. One pushed the barrow
from behind, with a strap, each end of which was attached to a handle,
passing over his shoulders, and thus relieving the wheel of some of the
weight carried; and another was in front, hitched to a rope tied to the
horn of this prehistoric little vehicle. The creaking of the wheels and
continued yelling chatter of the Chinese created a perfect pandemonium
of sound. Our convoy was more than 2 miles long, so that when the head
had reached a halting-place, and its escort was able to obtain rest and
refreshment, the unfortunate soldiers in the rear were still toiling
slowly along, and would arrive at an _étape_ to find that only a short
space of time remained for them to refresh their tired legs and empty
stomachs.
After Kep, the scene of Major Dugenne's reverse in June, 1884, the
road passed through a stretch of scenery wild and magnificent. By a
succession of loops and curves the route rose and passed round the
flank of one mountain after another. Sometimes the convoy crept slowly
over small bridges spanning mountain torrents, overhung with dense,
tropical vegetation. Now the road would wind through beautiful thickets
of bamboo, so dense that it would have been impossible to penetrate
it. At times we skirted deep woods and charming combes full of thick
undergrowth, palms and creepers. Often the track dipped and traversed
fine valleys, covered with waving jungle grass; beyond this could be
seen a vista of hills overrun with black forest, or chain upon chain of
massive rocks, 1,000 feet high, all bedecked with variegated foliage.
On or near the track there were few signs of animal or bird life, with
the exception of the ubiquitous sparrow and the ever-present kite,
though the vanguard occasionally disturbed a flight of chattering
parrakeets, or scared away small herds of deer, which, with a few
bounds, would disappear into the jungle. We halted at Kep, Sui-ganh and
Bac-Lé, and passed the night in the forts at these places. Here the
convoy was packed in an enclosure surrounded by a high bamboo fence,
fires being kept burning all night to scare away tigers and panthers,
as there were many in the jungle along the road.
The coolies, on their arrival, were told off into squads, and the daily
ration of rice and salt fish was served out to them. This they cooked
in copper pots, and the men of each squad squatted round the fires
awaiting their evening meal, while one of their comrades, who acted as
cook for the occasion, kept stirring the stew with a bamboo stick.
Most of these Celestials were tall, well-made men, whose lower
limbs were abnormally developed--a natural result of the calling
they followed--and, like the majority of their race, they evidently
possessed a strong dislike to soap and water, for they were extremely
filthy. They were clothed, like the men of the mountain tribes in
this region of the Tonquin, in a costume consisting of a vest and
pantaloons of blue cotton cloth, which, in most cases, was in a
terribly ragged condition.
For pay they received twenty-five cents per diem (about fivepence),
plus their daily rations.
The meal finished, the majority indulged in a few pipes of cheap
opium, locally known as _Sai_, and the surface of the compound was
starred over with the numerous tiny twinkles of their little lamps.
These went out one by one, and before midnight the camp was plunged in
silence and slumber, the naked limbs of the sleeping coolies having the
appearance of old ivory or new bronze in the flickering glimmer of the
watch-fires, round which they reclined. Then the stillness of the night
would be broken only by the song of the cicalas, the crackle of burning
wood, the occasional call of the sentries, and the far-away cop! cop!
cop! of a tiger hunting in the hills.
At Bac-Lé our detachment left the convoy, and abandoning the highroad,
we struck off due north by a small path which led to Cho-Trang. We set
out before daybreak, so as to avoid marching in the midday heat, and
were accompanied by a guide and several coolies bearing lighted torches
made of split bamboo as a precaution against wild beasts.
Cho-Trang is about 12 miles from the Lang-son road, and the little
track we followed passed for nine of these through a succession of
jungle-covered valleys, and over hills hidden in primeval forests of
teak, banyan, ironwood and palm trees, some of which were of enormous
size, with an impenetrable undergrowth of fern, interlacing creepers,
orchids and spiked rattan. In these woods the light of day was almost
shut out by the dense foliage; no birds seemed to live there, and
the strange, weird silence was only broken now and again by troops
of chattering brown monkeys, which, disturbed by our approach, would
scuttle away through the branches, jumping from one bough to another
with their usual agility, and maintaining the while such grotesqueness
of face and demeanour that our laughter was frequently provoked.
When we had marched about five hours, for during the darkness the pace
had been a slow one, we found ourselves close upon the rocky chain
already described, which exactly resembled the pinnacles which rise in
hundreds from the sea in Along Bay. This strange configuration is known
as the Nui-dong-Nghi, and its jagged ridges run east from this point
right through Tonquin into Kwang-si, and also far north to the heart of
the province of Cao-Bang.
We traversed the first chain through a pass known as the Deo-Mou-Phieu,
which in some places is so narrow that a native pony can only just
squeeze between the projecting boulders. This narrow cleft is evidently
the thousands-of-years-old work of the waters, which have eaten a way
through the calcareous rock. Indeed, there rushed through the pass a
rapid though narrow stream, wherein we had to wade knee-high.
Between these high stone walls the scenery possessed a savage grandeur
I have never seen equalled, and the semi-darkness of the narrow way
produced a most awesome effect. A few lines from _La Mort de Rolland_,
recited by a comrade during one of the short halts we made, produced
such a feeling of intense sadness that I was glad when our little
column broke out of these weird surroundings into the bright sunshine
beyond.
From the pass, which was nearly a mile long, we debouched into a little
circular plain, with a superficial area of about 1-1/2 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 the _tirailleurs
Tonkinois_--an eccentric individual who had a strong aversion to the
Legionaries. Not that he was unnecessarily harsh or unjust towards
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, damp
mists 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 numbed and 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.
Definite instructions 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, and the 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 keep and 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 fell sick 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 ones would 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 brown _congai_ that 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 a _tirailleur_ to 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,
the man 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 on my 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. Like
most 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 the fever 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, white _cornette_ and collar, reminded
me of the poem, "The Black Musketeer," in the _Ingoldsby 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-Yen to 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.