Chapter 1 - Departure

My name is Jan Deghendt. I am a lieutenant in the army of His Majesty King Leopold II of Belgium, and my speciality is railway engineering. From my earliest childhood I was seized by this peculiar passion, ever since I first saw the train arriving from Brussels into Antwerp station, my native city. I still remember how my father would take me by the hand to witness this miracle of mankind, even though the railway line between the capital and my city had already existed for nearly forty years.

I recall that steel colossus as it drew into the platform with its mighty roar, spewing black smoke in rhythm with pistons as large as the beams of our roof at home. Behind it trailed a dozen carriages with an ease that seemed almost otherworldly. I was left astonished, not by fear but by admiration, by the desire to understand this machine that allowed men to travel between the great cities of the old continent at a speed unheard of in all of history. The mark of that day has never left me, and now I know that my destiny is to devote my life to railway development.

What I could never have imagined, however, was that this destiny would one day take me beyond my own country or, as a matter of fact, beyond my continent. Today, the 22nd of February 1895, I am writing these words on the upper deck of the Léopoldville, the brand-new steamship that will henceforth link Belgium with the Congo, the colony of our magnificent King. With the foresight of his genius, he had this hidden part of Africa explored for the greater glory and welfare of his people. Today we reap the fruits of that vision, and everywhere in Belgium new palaces are being built with the abundance that Africa has thus far bestowed upon us. Brussels itself seems almost a new city, unafraid to be compared with Paris. Perhaps it is not as large, yet these days there is certainly more gold and more avant-garde in the Belgian capital than in the so-called City of Light, once the great example to all.

Departure from the port of Antwerp took place but sixteen days ago, and yet already it feels a distant memory. It was a bitterly cold day, and yet, despite this, hundreds came to bid farewell to the maiden voyage of the Léopoldville, carrying ninety first-class passengers and sixty in second. A mixture of people, all bound for the discovery of that vast and little-known land. I myself do not truly know what to expect, though the few among the crew who have seen it before never cease to amaze me with their stories. One thing, however, is certain: we shall be far removed from the freezing rains of Belgium. I feel the evening Sun burning my face still, without mercy. I have always been hardy in its light, often far more so than my schoolmates. At times they mocked me, calling me “negro” because of how my skin would darken so easily in the summer. Their words cut deeply back then, though I would never show it. Now, I can laugh. Those fools ought to see the five servants on this ship! They are truly black. I had heard tales of the black man before, but I was unprepared to see him in the flesh. And yet here, for the first time, I do. According to Commander Rom, my direct superior on this mission, they are not entirely human at all, but rather a kind of ape, which he persistently calls les bougnouls. The commander is a man of great experience, having already visited the Congo twice. Now he returns to take up command once more of the Force Publique, the local constabulary charged with securing peace in this new and fascinating land. For a young man such as myself, it will be a great honour to work under him in completing the railway line between the port of Matadi and Léopoldville, three hundred and fifty kilometres inland. In the past five years, only eighty kilometres have been constructed, and the King will spare no means or resources to see the enterprise completed. I can scarcely wait to take part in this challenge, to give all my knowledge and the strength of my arms to the service of my country.

Yet even as I set out on this mission, I find myself drifting ever further from you, dear Marieke… Forgive me for having accepted this commission and chosen to depart for a place so far away. We shall likely not see one another for at least a year. But you must understand that in life we must also submit to the choices that destiny makes for us, choices whose meaning is greater than our own existence. You are in my thoughts, never doubt it. I cannot cease to gaze at the photograph I carry with me, set in the locket you gave me. In my hand, in my mind, you will always be near, even in this land on the other side of the World.

“If you keep writing like that, you’ll miss dinner!”

Louis, my colleague and friend, startles me suddenly from my daydream. I had not heard him approach at all. My eyes shift from my diary to his ever-smiling face, framed by red curls.

“And if you don’t wear your hat, you’ll be as red as a boiled lobster,” I reply in the same ironic tone. Judging by the colour of his forehead, I ought not be joking at all.

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but the Sun has already set. Dusk doesn’t last long here.”
“Good heavens, you’re right! I hadn’t realised,” I exclaim in surprise at the quickly fading light.
“So then, what could you possibly have to confide to paper that you forget the whole World around you?”
“Oh… nothing, nothing in particular. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
“I understand. I feel it too. And if the commander is to be believed, this is only the beginning. The heat and humidity of the tropics are no trifling matter,” Louis sighs.
“Spoken like the boiled lobster without his hat,” I jest.
“Yes, and this lobster also says you must eat more. Especially now, unless you wish to anger the commander,” Louis advises me.
“All right then. I’ll come with you.”

I cast one last glance at the infinite ocean around us, and at the sky now growing darker. The constellation of Orion is already appearing, oddly enough, at the very zenith. All the other passengers have abandoned the deck and gone down to dinner.