This is to introduce my newly published novel.

[Many of you will have received a similar message by mail, so please excuse this repetition.]


My book is called "ALIWAL", and concerns the brief life of a young German Jew who left his home in revolution-torn Bavaria in 1849 to seek his fortunes in the Cape Colony (now part of South Africa).

The book describes his long, dangerous journey by sea from London to Cape Town. It continues to relate the events he witnessed when the inhabitants of that city revolted against the government in London.

Our hero joins a trading firm that is helping to open up the wild interior of the Cape, and soon establishes a store in the frontier town of Aliwal North. He is extremely successful and becomes wealthy. After some years, he returns to Europe, to Frankfurt where he marries the daughter of a banker. The married couple return to Aliwal North where, soon after their arrival, his bride has a close brush with death.

After she recovers, our hero hears of a group of men who are involved in looking for gold, and joins them, hoping that by doing so he will acquire wealth beyond belief. His quest for gold has tragic consequences ...

If I have whet your appetite already, you can buy the paperback on:http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/aliwal/12558619 , or download it as a file at a lower price.

If you are not yet convinced, here is a short extract:

P ieter Marais heaved a sigh of relief, glad that his arduous journey through the wet wintry countryside was over. He had reached Aliwal North at last. When he spotted the shop-sign, “H. Bergmann & Co.”, he stopped briefly, and turned his horse. He galloped back to the edge of town where he found a boy to look after it. Then, turning up the collar of his coat to hide his face, he walked through the cold, windswept streets back to Henry’s shop. He needed to be discreet. Many of the townsfolk knew him, and he did not want them to have the slightest inkling of whom he was visiting; he did not want tongues to start wagging.



H e stood outside the shop, wondering how to approach someone of Bergmann’s standing. Should he be humble and servile, or bold and direct? He fished a hip flask out of his coat pocket, opened it, and took a small swig of witblitz. Definitely not humble, he decided. He would treat him as an equal: man to man. After all, Bergmann ought to be very grateful to hear what he was about to say. He looked at the shop, and decided against using the main entrance where he might have to answer questions before getting anywhere near Bergmann. He walked around, and spotted a side entrance, its door ajar. Cautiously, he entered and found himself in a store room that smelled strongly of greasy wool. Quietly, he tried another door, and was relieved to find it unlocked. Pushing it open, he looked into an empty corridor, at one end of which was a door marked with a sign that read: ‘H. Bergmann – Managing Director’.



H enry had just returned to his shop, having snatched time for a cheering bowl of chicken soup with Jenny. He opened a letter on his desk, and read it. At last, he thought, that fellow Rose has decided to accept my offer. Now all that remained is to prepare a contract, and wait for the rent to come rolling in from Lady Grey. Just as was dipping the nib of his pen into an ink-well, the door of his office door flew open. He looked up, and wondered how the stranger, whose face was hidden in a forest of facial hair, had managed to enter without being stopped by his staff. Suppressing any signs of surprise, he stood up and offered his hand. The visitor ignored it, and barked out:

“Are you Mr Bergmann?”
“I am. And you are…”

“Pieter Jacob Marais … call me Piet.”



H enry was stunned. Rapidly regaining his composure, he said:

“Bernhard Goldmann has spoken about you. Did he send you?”

Marais nodded.

“Are you still prospecting for gold, Piet?”

“No longer, I am afraid. After my successful discoveries in California , things went downhill. I was disappointed in Australia , and the Transvaal Government has forbidden me to continue prospecting there. Now, all I have is my shop down in Dordrecht . It just about supports me and my family.”

“So, there’s not a great future for gold prospectors in the Transvaal ?”

“Well, that is not quite true, Bergmann.”

“Are you saying that there might be a future?”

“I am not saying much. The Transvaalers have paid me to keep quiet about my discovery.”