The last struggles of a rebellion--Departure of Captain Plessier--Our
new commander--Man-hunting--A friend in need--A false alarm--An
unexpected rise in life--On the Brigade Staff.
The remnants of the rebel forces, which had been smashed and dispersed
by Colonel Geil's column in the lower Yen-Thé, fled north and rallied
round their chief, De-Tam, who was hiding, together with a small number
of his most trusted retainers, in one of the wildest spots in the
dense forest region of the north-west of Nha-Nam, and about 10 miles
from that fort. This district is known to the natives by the name of
Quinh-Low.
At this time, owing to the large number of rebels we had slain or
captured, or who had surrendered during the past two months, the total
number of insurgents with De-Tam did not exceed two hundred. Efforts
had been made by the provincial mandarins to secure the chieftain's
submission. The French Government, preferring, if possible, to adopt
a policy of conciliation, rather than run the risks and be burdened
with the heavy expense resulting from a protracted struggle with such a
brave, resourceful and mobile foe, authorised the native functionaries
to offer the leader of the insurrection not only his life and liberty,
but also a remunerative post in the local administration, on the
condition that he would come in with his men and deliver up his arms
and ammunition.
These negotiations fell through, however, for De-Tam refused all offers
made to him, and wrote several letters to the French authorities in
which he informed them, in his usual high-flown, bombastic style,
that he would never surrender, and that he still possessed the utmost
confidence in the ultimate success of the cause he represented.
Notwithstanding these assertions, it is very probable that he would
gladly have accepted the terms offered had he been certain of enjoying
a quiet and comfortable life after his capitulation; but he was too
well versed in the natural cunning of his race not to know full well
that, in the event of his surrender, his very existence would be a
cause of constant dread to his former associates, the mandarins of the
Court of Hué, and they would most certainly find a way of ensuring his
silence, by means both wily and rapid, in the use of which Orientals
are experts.
From papers captured by the French troops, when they surprised the
encampment at Quinh-Low a few weeks later, it was learnt that the chief
had decided on the construction of a new series of defensive positions
in this region, with the intention of carrying on the rebellion with
something like its former success. His desires in this respect were,
however, doomed to disappointment, for such was the constant activity
of the troops occupying the different parts in the upper Yen-Thé
that no rest or respite were allowed him or his men. When the main
expedition had been broken up at the end of March, General Voyron had
given orders for the permanent occupation of the fortified positions at
Mo-Trang and Mona-Luong. These two forts, which had both been captured
from the enemy by the Thaï-Nguyen column, were well constructed, and
they required but little labour, mainly in the direction of felling
the trees that were too close up to the ramparts, to make them almost
impregnable when properly garrisoned. For several months after the
conclusion of the principal operations, the troops from these two
forts, together with the men from Nha-Nam and Bo-Ha, chased De-Tam from
one hiding-place to another; and, in consequence, he was never able to
establish any permanent centre of resistance.
Early in May my section was relieved by a similar detachment of the
Legion from Thaï-Nguyen, and we left Bo-Ha--for good this time--and
returned to our company at Nha-Nam.
On the 10th of the same month we were assembled under arms to witness
the departure of Captain Plessier, who was leaving for Haïphong, whence
he sailed for France a few days later. Our new commander, Captain
Watrin, took over the company and escorted his predecessor as far as
Cao-Thuong. Though the officer who was leaving us had always been a
severe disciplinarian, unsparing in regard to the work he had required
of us, yet his departure was a cause of chagrin to his Legionaries;
and their rough, though heartfelt expressions of regret were numerous
and outspoken. None of the officers are allowed to remain more than
three consecutive years in Tonquin, though they can return there after
a sojourn with their regiment in Algeria. Our Captain had completed his
period of colonial service, so that he could not have remained longer
with us even had he desired so to do. Officers of his stamp, that is,
men whose bravery is undisputed, who are severe but also anxious for
the welfare of the troops under their orders, will always be popular
with the Legionaries. His successor eventually became an even greater
favourite with the company, for, besides the qualities mentioned
already, he had a real affection for his men, though, when the occasion
required it, he tempered this sentiment with necessary sternness. He
regarded his command as a family, of which he was proud to be the head,
and made no show of the taciturn aloofness which had characterised his
predecessor. Captain Watrin, who was about thirty-eight years of age,
was a splendid specimen of humanity, for he was tall, broad-shouldered,
and extremely powerful. Fair, with blue eyes and a ruddy complexion,
he was a typical son of the "Lost Provinces"; and the fact of his
being a native of a village near Strassburg added not a little to his
popularity with the numerous Alsatians in the company. He seemed to
take a real pleasure in making himself acquainted with the individual
joys and sorrows of his men. Whenever the chance offered itself,
he would question us discreetly concerning our private hopes and
ambitions, and do his best to prove to his subordinates that he was to
them not only a chief, inflexible as far as questions of discipline
were concerned, but also a friend to whom they could confide their
troubles, ever ready with a word of consolation or advice, and all
the aid it lay in his power to render. His enquiries were probably
distasteful to such of the men as possessed a past they did not care to
recall; but when he perceived that a private was reluctant to confide
in him, he was too tactful to insist on the subject, and would smooth
matters over by a cheerful, "_Et bien, mon brave._ When you want a
confessor, come to me. I may perhaps be able to help you."
A few weeks after his arrival he was able to address every private
in his company by name, a trait which is exceedingly rare with the
officers in the French army. There is no doubt that the men were very
grateful to him for this detail, which certainly proved that their
chief was aware the Legionary was not merely an _enfant perdu_, to be
known only by the number stamped on each article of his kit, but that
he recognised that his men, like the rest of mankind, possessed their
just share of pride and passion, vice and virtue.
He very soon showed us that his military talents were of sterling
quality, for in his first engagements with the enemy it was at once
evident that his dispositions for the attack were taken with great
coolness and forethought, and with the careful intention of avoiding
all wanton loss of life. During the final rush and scrimmage he was
ever to the fore, and would not be denied the place of honour at the
head of the assault, which he led with no other weapon than a thick
stick.
Our company was kept continually on the move during the months of May
and June, reconnaissances and ambuscades being of daily occurrence.
Often we would make a night march, and, operating in conjunction with
parties sent out from the other forts, rush at dawn a village in which
several of the rebels had passed the night, or capture an encampment
situated in some out-of-the-way corner of the forest, or hidden in a
narrow jungle-covered defile between tall, steep hills.
Our ambuscades were generally placed on the paths leading to the south
by which supplies, coming from the few isolated villages still friendly
to the rebel cause, reached the enemy. These expeditions always
took place at night, for our foes no longer possessed the strength
and confidence which had allowed them to move about the country by
day, as they had been in the habit of doing before the downfall of
their citadels. To the majority of us the excitement of these little
expeditions was a source of real joy, notwithstanding the dose of
fever or twinge of rheumatism that sometimes resulted. We enjoyed the
silent, stealthy march through the dark, the long wait, hidden in rank
jungle, with anxious eyes peering through the gloom, our fingers on
the trigger, all listening intently to the thousand soft noises of
the night. Every nerve would be strained to its utmost tension, every
faculty keenly on the alert. The rustle of the long grass as a deer or
wild hog moved cautiously through it, the breaking of a twig, the hoot
of an owl, or even the sudden shrill chirp of the cicala would make the
heart leap with expectation, so that its hurried throb sent the blood
coursing through the arteries, and the system would tingle again under
a wave of suppressed excitement. More often than not our expectation
would be disappointed, for the enemy failed to put in an appearance,
though now and again our patience would be rewarded by a scrimmage, and
a convoy would be captured and several rebels slain or taken. Once our
ambuscade was surrounded and suddenly rushed by a strong band of most
determined Chinese banditti, of whose presence in the region we were
unaware. It is probable that they were going south with a convoy of
contraband opium. A desperate hand-to-hand struggle took place in the
dark. One of our men was killed in the first charge, and several were
wounded. One of the latter, a bugler, died of his injuries a few days
later. It is difficult to surmise what would have been the result of
the combat had not another detachment of our men, which had been posted
at a small ford about half a mile away, come to our assistance, for we
were completely surrounded, and owing to the blackness of the night we
could hardly distinguish our foes, who were cunning enough not to make
use of their rifles, attacking us instead at close quarters with their
heavy swords. On finding themselves charged in the rear the Celestials
withdrew, and at daybreak we found six of their dead on or near the
position. All these had been slain by the bayonet, for there had been
but little firing on our side since, owing to the danger of shooting
our friends, it had been found necessary to keep to steel. Though our
adventure lasted only a few minutes, I think those of us who escaped
unhurt from the _mêlée_ were passing thankful when it was over; for
never was it better proved that if in warfare an ambuscade can cause
great hurt to an enemy who comes upon it unawares, that same ambuscade
is in danger of total destruction should the enemy be forewarned of its
presence.
At this time, thanks to the experience they had acquired during the
past year and a half, and also to their having been employed during
the last three months in continually chasing the enemy from place to
place, through the wildest country it is possible to imagine, the men
of my company had become splendid jungle fighters. Each of them was
now not only a hardened, almost fever-proof soldier, but also a good
shot and an efficient scout, ever on the alert to notice each sign by
the way, to catch each sound in the air, and understand their meaning.
A footprint, a broken twig, a tiny streak of smoke creeping up from
between the trees to the sky, the dull thud of the distant axe as it
hit the wood, and the hundred and one other trifling indications of
the passage of man in the tangle of forest-covered hills were at once
seized upon and put to profit.
Conversant with the enemy's methods of fighting in the dark glades and
sombre thickets of his favourite haunts, the Legionaries and their
officers had learnt to trust no longer to the paths, but to advance
silently yet swiftly through the undergrowth, taking advantage of
every bit of cover, and making of each tree in the wood, each rise in
the ground, a temporary rampart. Encouraged by their officers, the men
took great delight in this new sport, which seemed more like a hunt,
in which the quarry was man, than regular warfare. The fact of their
not being continually in touch with their officers and "non-coms,"
and having consequently to depend sometimes on their own resources,
developed their individual initiative and self-reliance; whilst the
novelty of the situation gave full scope to their courage and love of
adventure. Perhaps with troops possessing less stamina and _morale_,
even these short periods of independent action would have been
dangerous, but with these well-disciplined and seasoned soldiers of the
Legion this new method of attack seemed rather to increase the zeal and
self-confidence of the men.
The following statement, drawn up by a rebel deserter, the written
translation of which still exists, most probably, in the records at
the headquarters of the 2nd Brigade, will give some idea of how hard
pressed were De-Tam and his faithful few by our troops at this period.
"The favourite wife of our old chief De-Nam was heavy with child when
the fire from the big guns and the approach of your infantry in such
great numbers obliged us to evacuate our positions. Notwithstanding
her condition she accompanied De-Tam and his lieutenants De-Truat and
De-Hué into the great forest at Quinh-Low. Here she gave birth to a
male child, posthumous son of our former leader; this was on the second
day of the fifth month" (May 26th). "At this time there were but few
men with De-Tam, for the majority of our troops had been scattered
all over the country, and many had gone south to their villages; thus
we were but sixty men armed with rifles, and with us were seven women
and two little ones. We had plenty to eat, for we drew rice from the
secret hiding-places in the forest, where great store of this food had
been placed many months before, by the wise orders of our Ong (Lord),
who was dead. But the white soldiers left us no peace, and each day
they pressed us so hard that we dared not sleep two nights in the
same place. At last we found a cave, to reach which we had to descend
a passage leading straight down into the earth." (In this district
are to be found numerous workings of former iron mines which were
abandoned several centuries ago, and are now overgrown with jungle. It
is probably to one of these that the deserter made allusion.) "We had
been in hiding in this place for several days when a party of soldiers,
who had followed the tracks of one of our men who had been sent out to
fetch water, nearly discovered our retreat. These soldiers hunted for
us until sundown and remained all the night in the forest, so that,
knowing this and fearing lest the cries of the young child should
betray us, De-Tam ordered us to dig a hole, and in it De-Nam's son was
buried alive.
"When the mother was told of what had befallen her babe--for it had
been taken from her whilst she was sleeping, and she knew not where it
had gone--she was stricken with much sorrow, and went away from us,
weeping and complaining, into the forest, where she slew herself in the
agony of her grief.
"On the morrow, when the troops had moved off a little, we succeeded in
getting away further into the jungle...."
* * * * *
The 9th June, 1902, I happened to be with a scouting party, and came
upon the body of the dead woman. It was still warm, and a native knife,
embedded right up to the hilt, had pierced the heart. Like the rest of
my comrades, I imagined at the time that this unfortunate creature had
been murdered by the rebels; and it was only several weeks later, when
assisting at the examination of the deserter mentioned above, that I
learned what had really happened.
On my return to Nha-Nam in May, I had been glad to renew relations with
my friend Doy-Tho; and whenever I found time to do so, I passed my
evenings in his _caigna_, and, seated beside him as he smoked, talked
over the situation.
He was always very well informed on all that was going on, though he
most certainly owed much of his knowledge to his former enemy, but
now devoted friend, Linh-Nghi, who, since the termination of the main
operations, had been nominated to the important post of _lu-thuong_
(headman) of the village of Long-Thuong; and, in return for the
services he had rendered to the authorities, important stretches of
cultivated land, formerly owned by some of the rebels, had been made
over to him.
It was from Tho that I learned of the lasting impression which the
rapid capture of all De-Tam's fortifications had produced upon the
population of the Yen-Thé. The majority of the people, he said, were no
longer moved to enthusiasm by this chiefs appeals to their patriotism,
and they now possessed no confidence in the ultimate success of the
movement in favour of their exiled monarch. However, my friend was
never weary of repeating that, until the French succeeded in killing or
capturing De-Tam, the chief would be a source of constant trouble in
the region, because most of the peasants possessed such a real dread
of him, that but few of the villages would dare to refuse his demands
for money or rice, so long as he remained an outlaw, and had at his
disposal a band of cruel and determined partisans.
Though I think that Tho was glad of my company, it was evident to me
that he was chagrined at my continued refusal to become a votary of the
soothing drug, which, like the majority of his compatriots, he regarded
as one of the necessities of existence. His disgust at my persistence
was all the more intense because it was an open secret that several of
the French officers and sergeants, serving in the native regiments,
smoked opium, and took but little pains to conceal the fact. He would
give me as examples the names of his superiors who indulged in the
pleasure procured by the subtle poison, hoping to induce me to follow
their example; though, curiously enough, he would generally conclude
his exhortations with quaint reflections full of irony, concerning the
excess to which most of the Europeans who indulged in this passion
would go; and he would then, in grandiloquent terms, replete with
Oriental conceit, inform me that he was himself complete master of his
own desires. He would swell with pride and delight when, to humour him,
I would praise his powers of self-control, though, for the matter of
that, I was convinced the length of his purse and the veto of Ba, his
wife, had more to do with the number of pipes he smoked, than any check
he was himself capable of imposing on his cravings.
He would speak at length on this subject, bringing out his words with
a slow, drawling, sing-song cadence in which there was no indication
of emotion, though now and again, when he had given an opinion he
considered was possessed of more than ordinary value, he would pause
somewhat longer than necessary, watching me intently the while, to see
if I had fully grasped the sense of his argument and appreciated the
beauty of his flowery metaphor.
"Yes, friend," he would say. "Tell me, I beg you, has not Heaven
given to us men the different pleasures of life so that we shall draw
from them delight wherewith to lighten our troubles and to forget our
hardships? Indeed you do know, since I myself told it to you, that
our wise men have long since decided that these numerous and varied
pleasures can be classified according to their merits, which consist in
the degree of bliss they can procure us. Each of these emotions finds
its proper place in its proper section, which last is itself one of
'The Seven Joys,' even as a soldier has his appointed position in one
of the four battalions of his regiment. The ancients represented 'The
Seven Joys' by as many bats, because, like our pleasures, these animals
flit around us in eccentric curves; though it requires but a little
patience and a light blow to bring them to our feet. That is why in
our pagodas, our houses and upon the altars to our ancestors you will
always see, sculptured or painted, the seven bats which are 'The Seven
Joys.'
"Heaven has sent us a thousand flowers--of which the most beautiful is
the sacred lotus--so that we should admire their colours and shape,
glory in their scent and draw great joy therefrom; also the splendour
of our hills, our forests and our rivers, the beauty of our women, the
love of our little ones, the pleasures of the chase, and the gladness
in the slaughter of our foes, are only a few of the million joys in
life, amongst which _Ong-Tu-phian_ (Lord Opium) is not the least in
importance; and these blessings have been generously accorded us by
the Lord Buddha himself, and any refusal to participate in them is
indeed rank blasphemy. But be warned that in all things there must be
moderation, and because of our friendship, I would not see you do like
the _Ong-Quan-hai_ (lieutenant) I have already spoken of, for, if his
orderly speaks not lies, this young man smokes one hundred and twenty
pipes each day, which is a great foolishness indeed; for in this way
his pleasure is no longer his servant, to come and go at his bidding,
but rather he has become the slave of his pleasure. Neither is his
case an exception, for nearly all you Western foreigners are alike in
this matter, and ever you go to the extremes. Either you will not touch
the drug--most probably because you are afraid of yourselves--or, if
you once begin, you will increase each day the number of pipes you
smoke, until your pleasure kills you, instead of remaining content with
a moderate use of it."
In speaking thus Tho was but echoing the opinions of his compatriots,
for the inhabitants of Indo-China, like the Chinese, are convinced
of their superiority, so far as intelligence is concerned, over the
European.
Partly from curiosity and also because I was determined to show
this little brown man that I possessed more self-restraint than he
gave me credit for, I consented one evening to make the experiment,
and smoked four pipes. I was rewarded by a most violent headache,
prolonged nausea, and a sleepless night crowded with waking nightmare.
It is hardly necessary to add that I did not repeat the experiment;
and though for some time Tho persisted in telling me that I had not
given the drug a fair trial, he finally dropped the subject. But it is
probable that my inability to partake of his favourite pleasure was to
him another proof of the decided inferiority of the European.
About the middle of June, Lieutenant Deleuze, the intelligence officer
from Thaï-Nguyen, to whom reference was made in a preceding chapter,
came to us to assist in the operations that were going on, for owing
to his knowledge of the vernacular, of the natives and their customs,
he was able to obtain information when others, less gifted, would most
certainly have failed. This officer was also instructed to complete a
new map of the region, for the late expedition had brought to light
the many errors and omissions contained in the former surveys of the
province. My friend Lipthay accompanied the Lieutenant, for he was to
assist in the topographical work.
I was pleased, indeed, to see my friend again, and was happy at being
able to congratulate him on his recent promotion, for he was now a
corporal; and we "wetted his stripes" on the evening of his arrival
with several bottles of good wine. In confidence he informed me that I
was myself to be attached to the intelligence staff of the district;
and, though he disclaimed all knowledge of the cause, I soon found out
that I owed this chance of promotion to his good offices.
I little knew at the time what important changes in my existence this
new departure would bring me, though had I possessed that knowledge it
could hardly have increased my gratitude for the "good turn" my chum
had done me.
For a month I worked with Lieutenant Deleuze, and accompanied the
different reconnaissances and little columns; making rough surveys of
the ground covered, and bringing back the sketches to Nha-Nam, where
they were amplified and checked. During these expeditions I was mounted
on a native pony, and armed with a carbine instead of the longer and
less handy rifle.
My new life was a most agreeable one, for not only did I escape all the
drudgery of fatigue duties in the fort, but when the reconnaissance
with which I might happen to be out, got in touch with the enemy, I
would put away my compass and _planchette_ and do duty as a galloper;
carrying information from the scouts to the commanding officer, and
going back again with orders. My mount was only 11-1/2 hands in height,
so that when I was in the saddle my feet were but a few inches from
the ground, but the animal's pluck, endurance and surefootedness were
extraordinary.
On the 15th July, Lipthay, together with the other members of the
district staff, returned to Thaï-Nguyen. I was left behind, as my
employment had only been a temporary one; but I continued to do
topographical work for our Captain, and was in consequence spared the
ordinary company routine.
Owing to the extreme heat which had now set in, the authorities gave
orders for the suspension of all operations, except in case of great
urgency, so that nothing more exciting went on than an occasional hour
of drill or theoretical instruction. Having failed to capture De-Tam
while it was still possible to move the troops, the authorities were
now obliged to wait for cooler weather.
Within the _réduit_, or little citadel, of our fort, a military
telegraph office had been erected, communicating with Bo-Ha and
Thaï-Nguyen by wire, and with Mo-Trang and Mona-Luong by the
heliograph. Two French operators, a marine and a gunner, were in charge
of the station.
Since I had been detached on special service I had messed with these
two telegraphists, and it was not long before we were the best of
friends. Bougand, the marine, and Gremaire, the gunner, were Parisians
of good family and education; and, thanks to their natural versatility
and wit, we soon found means of introducing a certain amount of fun
into our existence, which helped to relieve the terrible monotony of
life in the fort.
By nailing a damp sheet over a window which gave upon the gun-platform,
and with the aid of a powerful lamp, sometimes used for signalling
at night, we started a shadow theatre. Our troupe and scenery we cut
out of thick cardboard, and we were able to present adaptations of
some of the most popular dramas and comedies of the day, the text and
_mise-en-scène_ of which would have been a startling revelation to the
original authors.
These performances were given twice a week, and lasted from 7.30 till
9 P.M., and our audience was composed of all the Legionaries not on
duty and such of the native troops as cared to attend. There was, of
course, no accommodation for the spectators, who were indeed above such
details; and they contented themselves with standing, or squatting,
upon the hard ground to watch the show. Though some of our audience
saw fit to make rude remarks concerning the tone of voice in which
the feminine _rôles_ were read, the majority were unsparing of their
applause; and the appearance of the silhouettes of such famous artists
as the golden-voiced Sarah or the two Coquelins brought down the house.
Now and again some ready-witted interruption from one of the spectators
would cause the temporary disappearance of the actors from the stage
and a momentary cessation of the performance, for, unable to control
our emotions or continue the dialogue, we would fall on the floor of
the little mat-shed hut, where we would lie convulsed with laughter,
until the noisy public threatened to pull down the house unless we
continued the play.
Success ofttimes breeds foolhardiness, and in an evil hour, finding
that we had exhausted the _répertoire_ our memories offered us, of
plots from the Parisian stage, we decided to draw on local incidents
for the construction of our plays. At first all went well, for such
farces as _The De-Tam's Defeat_, in which that chief, after refusing
the hand of the Governor-General's daughter and a big dowry, died
through incautiously tasting the contents of a tin of bully-beef,
supplied by the Commissariat for the use of the troops, were
successful, and produced no untoward results. But, craving for still
greater popularity, we were foolish enough to put upon our stage
the too transparently caricatured counterpart of one of the senior
non-commissioned officers in the company of native troops, who, though
an excellent soldier, was possessed of many eccentricities. This
veteran resented our impudence, and we were reported and obliged to
suspend our performances.
The instruments were placed in the upper storey of the little telegraph
station, and I was in the habit of sitting upstairs for a couple of
hours each evening with either of my friends who happened to be on
duty. Here we would chat and smoke--for the messages were few and far
between after eight--and while away the time till eleven.
On the evening of 22nd May I was there as usual; Bougand was on
duty, and we had been exchanging opinions concerning the adjutant,
who had succeeded in obtaining the _clôture_ of our theatre, when
our conversation was suddenly interrupted by a call on the Morse
from Thaï-Nguyen. In the middle of the message he was receiving, my
companion gave a sudden whoop of astonishment; though this did not
cause me much emotion, for I was accustomed by now to his pet mania,
which consisted in telling me all sorts of tall stories concerning the
wires he received, and I prepared myself to greet a yarn about the
capture of De-Tam, or my promotion to the much-desired dignity of a
full blown corporal. When the message was finished, and he had rapped
back that he had read the same correctly, he jumped up excitedly, came
over to me and, holding out his hand, shouted:
"_Mon vieux_, I congratulate you!"
"_Blagueur!_" I answered. "Spare me your mouldy joke. It's much too hot
to laugh, so be sensible. Let's take a glass of wine, if any remains in
the bottle, and then I'll go to bed."
"I assure you----" He almost yelled it, but I would not let him go
on, and taunted him with the staleness of the joke he was trying
to play; till, in despair of obtaining a hearing, he rushed over to
the instrument, tore off the band and handed it to me to read. To my
amazement I saw, clearly printed in little blue letters upon the narrow
strip of paper, beyond the possibility of a hoax, the following message:
"_Major--Thaï-Nguyen, to Captain-Commanding Nha-Nam.--Send soldier
Manington by first convoy to Phulang-Thuong, from whence he will
proceed to Bac-Ninh to take service as secretary, Brigade Staff._"
The next few minutes were exciting ones, and it was not until we had
hauled Gremaire from his bed downstairs, communicated the news to him,
and drowned our emotion in a jugful of wine and water, with a lemon cut
up in it, that things began to assume their normal proportions.
I slept but little that night, and lay speculating as to how it was
that fortune had so favoured me, for a berth on the Staff meant
interesting work, extra pay and comfortable quarters; in fact,
a return to partial civilisation. The change carried with it one
drawback, however, which made me hesitate as to whether it would not
be better for me to propose another man in my place, for I knew that
promotion was very slow on the Brigade, the number of "non-coms" there
being limited to three, and I was already somewhat disappointed at not
receiving my "stripes" at the same time as my friend Lipthay; though
this had been owing to the fact that several corporals had been sent
out to the corps with the last batch of troops from Algeria, so that
the vacancies had been few, and only the best had been chosen.
Next morning I was called up to the _rapport_, and after Captain Watrin
had informed me of the order received from our Major, I told him of
my fears; but he would not listen to them at length, and informed me
that I must go: that he was proud that a man from his company had been
chosen, and that I might congratulate myself on my good luck.
"Why, _mon garçon_," he said, "you have only to do your work well
and keep sober--and you will do that, I know, for the honour of the
company--and promotion will come in good time. In two years you will
probably be a sergeant; and then, if you so choose, you will be able to
go to St Maixent (the military school for sergeants who wish to become
officers), and get a commission. Now go to the sergeant-major and get
your _feuille de route_, for you will leave with the convoy to Bo-Ha
to-morrow morning." Then, offering me his hand, this excellent man and
true gentleman said: "Now, good luck to you; and be careful to remember
always that you belong to the Legion, and that the honour of the corps
is yours also."
After packing my kit and getting my papers from the sergeant-major,
who chaffed me good-naturedly by saying that now that I was going
to be on intimate terms with a general, he hoped I would not put on
too much "side," I went round the company to say good-bye. Later I
slipped away to Tho's hut in the native village, and told him of my
coming departure. The little man was evidently chagrined at the news;
nevertheless, he congratulated me most heartily, and made me promise to
write to him, saying, with evident pride, that he was now able to read
a little French, so that, with the aid of one of the native clerks in
the Commissariat Department, he would be able to decipher my letters.
We had a grand dinner that evening in the little telegraph station,
a tin of salmon and several bottles of beer having been purchased to
swell the _menu_ provided by our usual rations.
My friends drank to my success, and I to their health and speedy return
to France; and it was late in the night before I retired to rest for
the last time in the fort which had, with few intervals, been my home
for the past fifteen months.
Several of my comrades were present to bid me "Godspeed" when, early
the next morning, I filed out with the convoy through the gates of our
position.
Together with several sick men, both Legionaries and _tirailleurs_,
who were going down to the hospital, I left Bo-Ha that evening. We
descended the river in _sampans_, and reached Phulang-Thuong next
morning.
On the morning of the 26th July I left for Bac-Ninh with the weekly
convoy to Hanoï which carried the mails. We passed through Dap-Cau
at noon, and arrived at our destination at 2 P.M. The country we
traversed was a big cultivated plain, dotted with villages, with here
and there occasional small groups of low hills.
At Bac-Ninh there is a small citadel, built, no doubt, towards the
end of the eighteenth century by one of the engineers lent by Louis
XVI. to his ally, the Emperor of Annam. It is hexagonal in shape, and
constructed according to the principles of Vauban. Each of its sides
has a frontage of about 1000 yards, and is furnished with numerous
flanking bastions and demi-lunes. There was a company of marines, a
battalion of the 3rd Regiment of _Tirailleurs Tonkinois_, and about
a thousand militia in garrison there. Inside the citadel were the
houses of the General Commanding the 2nd Brigade, the Resident of the
province, the officers' quarters, the barracks of the troops, the Staff
offices, and the lodgings of the soldier-secretary.
On my arrival I reported to the Brigade Major, Captain Michaud, who
sent me on with an orderly to the Intelligence Department, where I was
to be employed.
The chief of this office, Lieutenant Cassier, received me very kindly;
and, after telling one of the secretaries, a marine, to go and show me
where our lodgings were situated, he informed me that I might rest that
afternoon, and come to work the next morning.
I found that I was quartered, together with the other scribes--five
privates and two corporals--in a one-roomed brick building with a
verandah in front, which was situated at the end of the General's
garden, and looked out into the parade ground of the native infantry.
On the other side of this open space, about 300 yards away, were the
buildings occupied by the French marines.
I washed, disposed my kit above the cot which I noted was of the
comfortable pattern in use in Algeria, and went for a stroll into the
town, about a couple of hundred yards outside the fortifications, for I
desired to reconnoitre the surroundings before dinner, which I had been
informed was at 6 P.M.
The little town of Bac-Ninh is situated on the old mandarin road from
Hanoï (the capital of Tonquin) to Lang-son and the Chinese frontier,
about 18 miles from the metropolis. It contains a population of eight
thousand natives, is the capital of the province of the same name, and
has a cathedral, seat of the Spanish bishopric of eastern Tonquin.
Though it is not a manufacturing centre of any importance, its only
local production being silk embroidery work--for which, however, it is
famous--it is considered as one of the principal commercial towns of
the colony, because its markets are a medium of barter or exchange for
objects imported from the surrounding provinces and also from China,
through the frontier towns of Lang-son and Cao-Bang. I wandered through
the narrow streets for an hour or so, and was delighted with the life
and bustle of the little town. It was market day, and the busy throngs
jostled one another as they passed to and fro. The natives are noisy
individuals, and their shrill cries as they hawked their wares or
wrangled over the price of some article for household use--a basket
of rice, yams, or some other comestible--were perfectly bewildering
at first to me; for I had become so used to the silence of the empty
plains and the jungle-covered hills, that even the tiny stir of this
overgrown village produced an impression akin to what an inhabitant of
Exmoor might feel were he suddenly transported to the busiest centre of
London.
I got back in good time to the citadel, for I was anxious not to commit
so serious a breach of etiquette as to make my new comrades await
dinner for me.
I received a hearty welcome from them all, though only one of them,
a lance-corporal, who was working in the general office, belonged to
the Legion: he came from the 2nd Regiment. We sat down to our meal in
a small building close to the offices of the Brigade; and the fare,
which was better than I had been used to at Nha-Nam, and the unexpected
luxuries of china plates, real glasses, a table covered with white
oil-cloth and a punkah, were more than sufficient to reconcile me to
my new surroundings. Owing to the extra pay we drew--about one and
sixpence a day--it was not only possible to keep up a good mess, but,
besides the cook, we were able to maintain a boy, at four _piastres_ a
month--about eight shillings--and this faithful servitor swept out our
quarters, made the beds, cleaned our boots, pipe-clayed our helmets,
and performed a hundred and one other services, which I had become
so used to doing for myself that it was several days before I could
become accustomed to leave the work to him, much to the amusement of
the other secretaries.
The morning after my arrival I rose and dressed at 5.30 A.M., as I had
been used to do in my company; but I got roundly sworn at by the other
occupants of the room for awakening them by my noisy ablutions. The
fault lay with them, however, for they had neglected to inform me that
the office opened at eight, though it was several weeks before I could
accustom myself to lie abed till seven each morning.
I found that my task consisted partly in aiding in the drawing up of
a new map of the Yen-Thé, and partly in clerical and intelligence
work. This last part was the most interesting, for I had to write down
the reports of the different spies attached to the Brigade, and the
depositions of the captured brigands when they were interrogated by the
lieutenant in charge of our office. Besides this, I had to pass an hour
each morning with the Brigade Major, as it was my duty to register all
the correspondence received, the letters and reports being handed over
to me for that purpose by Captain Michaud, as soon as he had perused
them. By this means I became acquainted with everything of interest
that was going on in the colony, so far as rebellion, brigandage and
military operations were concerned; and I had not been long on the
staff before I realised that the little warfare in which my company
had taken a part in the Yen-Thé was but a chapter in the history of a
struggle that was still going on all over the country, outside of the
Delta provinces, between the French on one hand and the Tonquinese
rebels and Chinese bands on the other. Columns were marching, or
being organised, against such chiefs as Luu-Ky, whose powerful gangs
of well-armed plunderers overran the provinces of Quang-Yen, Lam and
Lang-son; the veteran banditti of the quasi-feudal lords, Ba-Ky and
Luong-Tam-Ky, in the districts of Cao-Bang and Ha-Giang, on the higher
reaches of the Red River, and the frontiers of Yunan, Kwang-si and
Kwang-tung; and skirmishes were reported daily by the officers who
commanded the numerous forts and blockhouses, whose garrisons were
continually coming in touch with the bands infesting the mountainous
regions of the colony.