TEN MONTHS IN THE FIELD WITH THE BOERS.
To GENERAL DE VILLEBOIS-MAREUIL
_To you, General, who, from the Paradise of the Valiant, can read in my heart the sentiments of respect and affection that guide me, I dedicate these lines in token of the profound admiration of your former Lieutenant._
TRANSVAAL, 1899-1900.
I
"No room, sir!"
This was the phrase that greeted my friend De C---- and myself at the door of every carriage we tried.
The fast train for Ma.r.s.eilles leaving Paris at 8.25 was, indeed, full to overflowing that night of December 23; by eight o"clock not a place was left.
Finally, after treading on a good many toes, and exchanging a good many elbowings, we installed ourselves more or less comfortably--a good deal less, to be accurate--one in the front of the train, the other close to the luggage-van.
A last clasp of the hand to the comrades who have come to the station with us, and we are off.
The lights of Paris begin to die out in the distance; conversation languishes; the monotonous rumble of the train lulls the travellers into drowsiness; heads nod and droop in the dim light of the lamp.
"La Roche! Wait here five minutes!"
We jump out. C---- and I meet again.
"Well, how are you getting on?"
"Not very well. And you?"
"Very badly!"
And, much depressed, we return to our respective carriages.
At last the patience under discomfort habitual to men of our unsettled lives a.s.serts itself, and we sleep soundly till we reach Arles, when we find two seats together.
At Ma.r.s.eilles we were kindly received by a pleasant cousin of mine, and by a delightful lady, also of my kindred.
The 24th we spent with some comrades, officers of the neighbouring garrison, and on the 25th we and our baggage were safely on board the _Natal_, of the Messageries Maritimes.
I make special mention of our baggage, which, in preparation for the campaign we are about to undertake, consists of two little canteens.
The two together weigh exactly 38 kilos, making about 19 kilos each.
They hold all our belongings, including our two revolvers and two hundred cartridges. We are not overloaded with baggage.
The _Natal_ is one of the "fine steamers" of former days, fairly large.
We first take possession of our cabin, which opens into the dining-saloon. Then we go up on the bridge, where we are introduced to Colonel Gourko, who is also on his way to the Transvaal, as Russian military attache. We had met him the evening before at the station, for he arrived by the same train as ourselves. But his fluent French, and his rosette of the Legion of Honour, which he always wears by courtesy in France, had made us take him for some important functionary on his way to Madagascar!...
We ask his pardon. But the minutes pa.s.s. Hand-shakings, good wishes, bursts of emotion, the time-honoured formula of departure have been gone through; the gangways are taken up, the ropes cast off; we steam out of port. The handkerchiefs that flutter on the quay and on the pier gradually diminish, the houses seem to flatten, Notre Dame de la Garde dwindles, becomes smaller and smaller, till at last it is a mere speck on the horizon. Then it disappears altogether; we are on the open sea.
I shall not thrill with ecstasy, nor pour out a tribute of emotion to the "blue immensity," for, though I have many parts--as you, my readers, will readily believe, especially such of you as do not know me--I am no poet. The dinner-bell finds De C---- and me prosaically wrangling over 150 points at piquet.
The dining-saloon is large, but there are few diners. We take a general survey.
The captain, who is supposed to preside over the meals, is not well, and does not appear. In fact, we scarcely see him at table during the pa.s.sage.
Colonel Gourko, Captain Ram, and Lieutenant Thomson, the Dutch military attaches, Captain D---- of the Marines, with his charming young wife and their son Guy--who is soon one of our firmest friends--an engineer, a naval doctor, a young lady on her way to set up as a milliner at Tananariva, an English journalist, and Henry de Charette, a volunteer for the Transvaal, where his health will prevent him from playing a very active part, make up the sum total of diners, or very nearly so.
We further discovered on board Messieurs de Breda, a former cavalry officer, Pimpin, Michel, a distinguished artillery officer, and a few others destined to be our pleasant comrades in the future.
As at least fifteen of us are bound for Lourenco Marques, and as we have reason to fear a visit from some English cruiser not unaccustomed to such travellers, we have all adopted the most extraordinary callings.
One of us is a commercial traveller in the wine or drug trade; another is a dealer in apparatus of various kinds. I also met a bird-seller, a manufacturer of blinds, and an agent for bitumens!
C---- and I are modest! We are in quest of purchasers for "Calaya," a febrifuge of extraordinary virtues, a specific for fever, dysentery, headache, toothache, etc.
The weather is superb; but our boat is slow, and we rarely make 300 miles in the twenty-four hours.
We reach Port Said on December 31. For New Year"s Day we get up an entertainment with a lottery on board, and, thanks to Madame D----, it proves a great success.
The profits, amounting to nearly a thousand francs, were handed over to the Widows and Orphans" Fund of the Messageries Maritimes.
The prizes offered by the pa.s.sengers were of the most curious description, and as we were bound for sunny climes, there were more than twenty umbrellas among them. Chance, with perhaps a little extraneous help, made a good many of these fall to the share of Colonel Gourko, who took the little joke in excellent part.
Breda undertakes the refreshment buffet, with the help of a charming young girl, and presides with great dignity.
After leaving Port Said the company is increased by the members of a Russian ambulance going to the Transvaal. They keep very much to themselves, and every evening they meet together on the lower deck to sing their vesper prayer. The sacred chant, in itself very imposing, takes on a solemn grandeur in the picturesque setting of the Red Sea.
At Aden we go on sh.o.r.e, and make an execrable lunch, washed down, however, by some excellent Chianti and Barolo; then we go to see the famous cisterns, in which there is hardly ever any water now.
We also pick up a new pa.s.senger, Captain B----, of the Royal Field Artillery, who also is for Durban on warfare bound. Our approaching hostility does not prevent us from being the best of friends throughout the pa.s.sage. He wears the medal of the Soudan, too, which gives him a further t.i.tle to our sympathies. He describes his very interesting campaigns in India and Egypt. He was present at Omdurman--"the great battle," as he calls it.
Ever since we started we have been hearing terrific accounts of Guardafui. Few vessels, it appears, escape disaster at this point! But the sea is like oil, to the great mortification, no doubt, of all our ancient mariners.
Now we are bound straight for Madagascar. For eight days we shall be between sky and water. Let us turn them to account for a rapid retrospect of the causes which have led to the war in which we are about to take part.
It will not, I think, be necessary to dwell on the origin of the Boers.[#]
[#] Boer means peasant; Burgher denotes a citizen.
Colonists sent out in 1652 by the Dutch East India Company, they landed at the Cape of Good Hope, discovered two centuries before (1486), and settled there, employing themselves in agriculture and cattle-breeding.